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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22813891">This could be our last chance... When we gonna make it work?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFFhoneymoon/pseuds/TFFhoneymoon'>TFFhoneymoon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tears for Fears (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 11:00:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>46,050</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22813891</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFFhoneymoon/pseuds/TFFhoneymoon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when you've lived part of your life and then suddenly start feeling an unimaginable attraction to your best friend... <br/>What are these feelings, how to live with them further... <br/>And why it's so sweet and painful at the same time... <br/>Passion, lust, and vicious love struggle with the desire to live a normal family life. <br/>How difficult it is to love and desire someone you shouldn't love...</p><p>All relationships are the product of the author's imagination, and any coincidences with reality are accidental.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Roland Orzabal/Curt Smith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. am I going crazy?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>PS: this is a translation of my fic from Russian, please forgive me for some possible inaccuracies-</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That evening at the end of September 1982 was insanely boring. Outside the window, the weather was also not happy – it was cloudy, damp and dank.<br/>
Nobody did want  to work at all, and the guys procrastinated in Ian's home Studio (however, equipped with the latest technology).  Roland jammed on the guitar from time to time. Ian and Manny, the band's keyboardist and drummer, were scurrying around the kitchen, opening the refrigerator every now and then, as if something had magically appeared there.<br/>
-Ian, stop clapping the refrigerator, it will soon dry up from your attempts to dig something there, - Curt lazily held out, the first not to withstand the mockery of the subject of household appliances.<br/>
- Shut up and go to the shop and buy a beer, we're sitting here like idiots, we don't  work at all anyway, - responded Manny.<br/>
- Go yourself if you need, -  Roland snapped, and slashed the guitar strings with his hand.<br/>
- You'd better save your guitar, - Ian Stanley snorted back, and then the front door slammed shut – apparently the bandmates had gone to get supplies after all.</p><p>Roland and Curt, childhood friends and founders of their newfound musical group, were left alone in the Studio and sometimes barely audible sighs, and both thinking their own thoughts.<br/>
- If we fail now, I don't know if we should continue, -  Roland Orzabal said, a note of desperation in his voice. – Really, am I such a shit like an author?<br/>
- Stop torturing yourself, Ro, everything will be fine, I'm sure, - Curt Smith tried to reassure and cheer his friend, - If someone might not like something, it's my nondescript meow, - Curt imitated a sweet-voiced singing, and the guys laughed through the force.</p><p>This was the band's third single, "Mad World", from the upcoming album they were recording at the time. At the end of August, they shot a video, and in the middle of September, they launched it and the song itself into hard rotation on TV and radio. Previously, they were periodically invited to different TV-programs, that is, the single was already quite familiar to the listener. But, nevertheless, anyway there was not the enchanting response from the charts that friends have been waiting for. The previous singles, unfortunately, did not have much success, although they were very worthy in the opinion of the guys and their producer. Therefore, the success of this song was very, very important to them.</p><p>The phone rang sharply and shrilly. Curt was the first to get off the couch, tangled in his own legs, almost falling, and with the phrase "God damn it!" got to the phone.<br/>
- Hello, yes! Yes, it's Curt...Chris, what are you saying, I don't understand? Fuck, don't yell, say it normally. What the fuck?! - Curt froze with the handset in his hand and opened his mouth in surprise. – Stop, you don’t tell lies, are we really on the eighth place?<br/>
Roland hopped around Curt, tugging impatiently at the sleeve of Curt's sweater, hoping to listen to the phone conversation as well, but couldn't stand it any longer, so he simply took the phone away from Curt.<br/>
- Chris, this is Roland. This moron is worth as an idol and can explain nothing, - Roland received easy a slap on the head from friend and smiled in the answer.<br/>
- Guys, you just got to the eighth place in the top singles chart of our native mother-Britain! On the eighth, Goddammit! You wait, this is just the beginning, - the phone exulted in the voice of their producer Chris Hughes.<br/>
- Holy shit..., - Roland whispered, and slowly put the phone back on the hook.<br/>
The two friends looked at each other and shouted happily together, then threw themselves into each other's arms. Shouting and jumping around the Studio in an embrace, they almost destroyed half of the room, but they were completely indifferent to the safety of furniture or tools at that moment. Curt hopped on to the sofa, raised his right hand and extended his index finger, and said solemnly:<br/>
- My God, finally! I told you we could! We're superstars, God, this is great! - He bounced on the sofa to the cheers of Roland running around.</p><p>At the same time, Manny and Ian entered the Studio with bags of food and drink. Hearing the heart-rending screams, they abruptly rushed up with the thought: "Fuck, they are fighting again!".</p><p>Sometimes the creative process of writing and recording songs between Curt and Roland was somewhat out of bounds due to the fact that they both had quite tough and assertive characters.<br/>
Roland, although he was a bookworm and, to some extent, could even be called a botanist, but he sometimes had a temper and absolutely couldn’t compromise. He sought to be the main thing, always and everywhere and did not tolerate any critical amendments in the direction of his work. Sometimes it was difficult to convince him to change a particular point in the song if he had already decided everything, and someone did not agree with the sound. Difficult childhood, conflicts with his father did their job and developed similar traits in Roland. </p><p>Despite common interests, the creative Union of the guys was sometimes very explosive when they disagreed on something.<br/>
Roland usually started talking quite calmly and tried to explain his point of view. Later, when it didn't reach Curt, he would raise his voice, but still try to avoid a fight. But for Curt, the booming and demanding timbre of his voice, which gradually grew during the argument, was a red rag for a bullfight. Curt, who was a desperate bully and was constantly looking for adventures in his youth, what about the scar on the bridge of his nose eloquently said received in one of the fights with some skins, instantly exploded, as soon as he heard such notes in his friend's voice. This voice aroused in him only one emotion – to immediately pounce with his fists on Roland and finally clearly explain his position to him.<br/>
Roland's English calmness instantly evaporated, and his Spanish-Argentinian ancestry quickly came to the fore. In a moment, the blood in his veins was like hot oil with ice water added to it - it sparkled, bubbled, and melted. And at the same moment, a dense tangle of two bodies was formed, fighting with roughly equal forces. Despite the short stature and average build of the guys, the strength of their fight was always so high that their colleagues eventually even stopped spending their strength to separate them, but only watched the safety of the instrument if the fight was in the Studio. But, fortunately, this did not happen often, and now the playmates, much to their relief, were mistaken in their assumptions.<br/>
Bursting into the room, the musicians saw the following picture: Roland with a pillow over his head like of Napoleon hat portrayed the winner-conqueror, and Curt were laughing hysterically, squealing, wiping tears and rolling on the floor from smothering his laughter.    </p><p>- All right, you were crazy, - Manny stated fact, - what did you smoke here without us, morons? -  he asked.<br/>
- Fuck, you will smash whole my Studio. Sometimes you fight, sometimes you get mad together, I'm sick of you guys, - muttered Ian, although he is much reassured that fights between boys were not.<br/>
- Dudes, we're the eighth! "Mad world" is eighth on the chart! - Curt was happy as a child and jumped on Roland's back in a rush. Roland grabbed him by the legs, and they started running around the Studio like crazy, yelling, almost breaking a couple of synthesizers.<br/>
- That idiots, - with a smile said Ian to the address of the friends - Manny, I told you, we need more booze to take, my gut told me. That's enough for you, that's enough.<br/>
- Ro's strange dances have enslaved Great Britain, - Curt laughed, alluding to the movements only Roland could understand, which he played on the set of the video.</p><p>Manny and Ian realized that they weren't going to be able to talk sense into the two of them any time soon, so they went back to the shop for more alcohol, leaving the guys to blow off steam. Soon the colleagues returned, and not alone, but accompanied by two young girls - a cute long-haired slender blonde and a fatal red long-legged beast.<br/>
-I didn't understand, -  Curt said indignantly. – Why are only two girls?<br/>
- Well, they brought us presents, don't they? -  laughed Roland, gallantly taking the red-haired woman's cloak from her shoulders to hang it on a hanger.<br/>
- No way. They are ours, - Ian chuckled, - we  met with them now, - he playfully winked at girls.<br/>
- And if you need to, look for it yourself. And anyway, you fucking newlywed, aren't you getting enough of your wife? - Manny muttered to the newly married Roland.<br/>
- You don't seem to be single either, - Roland retorted, putting his arm around the red-haired beauty, who smiled sweetly back at him.<br/>
- We are already old, we can, - Ian like a gentleman missed blonde  forward themselves. His family was away for a week with his wife's parents, so he felt quite at ease.<br/>
Exchanging jokes and laughing, the company set the table. When everything was ready and the friends and their new girlfriends were seated, Roland decided to lift the first toast:<br/>
- Friends, I am very glad that we did succeed, and we finally made a big and I hope not the last step to our huge upcoming success. For us and for good music!<br/>
- Amen, - Curt finished the toast, and everyone laughed in the room, clinked their glasses, and drank their contents in one gulp.<br/>
The party went on merrily, the guys took turns flirting with the girls, each trying to look much cooler and wittier than the interlocutor in the eyes of the lovely damsels. Everybody was actively getting drunk, was arranging small disputes, in general, they were spending time excellently.<br/>
Suddenly Curt decided to draw everyone's attention to himself:<br/>
- Guys, I have something for this occasion. I quite forgot, and now suddenly I remembered, - the young man has spoken a bit drunkenly.<br/>
Everyone stared at him with interest.<br/>
- Look here! -  Curt took a small packet of suspicious-looking contents from the inside pocket of the jacket he had brought.<br/>
- Is that grass? - Roland asked anxiously. - Curt, you're done with this, aren't you?"<br/>
- I'm done, I'm done, don't worry, - Curt assured his friend.<br/>
- This was in a jacket in ages, as soon as no one got caught me, - the guy laughed.<br/>
- Good daddy-Rolly, - Manny drawled petulantly, - let's go on. Well, spare no expense, buddies!<br/>
The other members of the group and the girls enthusiastically supported Curt and began sitting on the floor, enthusiastically blowing sweet smoke.<br/>
- Ro, - Curt crawled over to his friend, handing him the joint, - try it once, relax, when if not today. - Curt was turning Roland's conscience inside out like a little devil with a cute Cupid's face.<br/>
The young man, yielding to the sly glance of his friend, doubtfully took the joint and was inhaled it. It got a little foggy his head by adding more depth to the effect of alcohol.<br/>
-Let's play spin the bottle, - Curt blurted out, winking at the boys and nodding slightly at the girls. – With undressing!<br/>
Under the influence of prohibited substances, his inner demon continued its activity in Curt’s mind.</p><p>The game started. The guys were fooling around, enthusiastically playing tricks and cheating when untwisting the bottle so that the girls were already stripped to the waist after a small amount of time, remaining in only bras. The guys mostly took off their socks. The initiator himself, however, was a little less lucky – he was already sitting without a sweater, exposing a beautifully outlined line of shoulders. The girls obviously liked it, they kept trying to playfully grazed him with their hands or touch his body, as if by accident. Curt was undoubtedly flattered by the attention, but somehow it was getting unbearably boring.<br/>
He moved closer to Roland – he always felt more comfortable around his friend. In turn, Roland, who had not been particularly conspicuous in the general confusion of the party, suddenly eased the boredom. Alcohol has made him happy, and Roland decided to lie down on Curt, who was sitting slightly in front of him in the Lotus position now, but he did not calculate the strength a little, leaning all his weight on his back. So that Curt almost touched the floor with his nose.<br/>
-Ro, you're kidding me, I'm not a yogi,- Curt laughed back.<br/>
Roland purred something in a bass voice, giggled in his ear, and ended up laying like a lifeless puppet on Curt's back, his arms dangling like ropes in front of him.<br/>
So they continued to play for a while, Roland reclining on his friend's back, and Curt lazily dangling his friend's hands in front of him.<br/>
Under the influence of the joint, Roland's mood became more playful, all doubts and fears drifted away, and he continued to amuse himself, deciding to play a joke on his friend.<br/>
He put his arm around Curt's shoulders and blew gently into Curt's ear, so that no one would notice. Curt's eyes widened in surprise, he visibly shuddered, and a crowd of goosebumps immediately ran his naked torso , which did not go unnoticed by the other guys.<br/>
-Roland, - Ian said with a tearful laugh, - are you trying to seduce your best friend? Gentlemen, don't give him any more drinks or smoke, or I'm getting scared for our manhood!<br/>
-Fuckyou! - Roland muttered, barely moving his tongue, smiling drunkenly as he continued to tickle Curt's neck with the air. Curt laughed, dodged, but did not break out of the guy's arms, taking it for the stoned Roland’s behavior, who had never tried weed before. </p><p>Finally, Roland was tired of this activity, and the constant exhalation of air made him even more dizzy. He rested his head on Curt's shoulder, his nose buried in Curt's neck. Close friendly contact was usual between them, and Roland also had a habit of sometimes kissing Curt on the cheek in a particularly tender display of friendship, almost fraternal, so none of the guys, in fact, did see anything strange in this.<br/>
"It's so strange," thoughts were crawling through his head like tortoises, "it's always so easy, good and calm with him, and..." Roland slowly inhaled the scent of Curt's slightly sweaty body, mingled with the faintest hint of Cologne. The scent was surprisingly intoxicating, and he wanted to taste his skin with his lips, and Roland was just beginning to move the thin braids of hair from the desired area of the neck with one hand, when a strong rush of fire in the groin area burned him from the inside. It was like boiling water, and the feeling suddenly sobered him, making him remember that they weren't really alone. He jerked away from Curt, accidentally pushing him away.<br/>
-Ro, are you all right?  Curt turned anxiously.<br/>
-I...Yes...I mean...I guess I shouldn't have...</p><p>He didn't feel bad, as the others thought. It's just...Roland couldn't express any feelings at all at that moment, everything in his head was mixed up, and he urgently needed to be alone. When he reached the bathroom, he closed the door behind him, went to the sink, leaned his hands on it, and looked at himself in the mirror. His bangs were disheveled, his eyes were as red as a lab rat's, his cheeks were flushed with fire, and plump lips became a crimson. What a view.<br/>
But the worst part was that it was not only the lips that were full – the sudden erection did not pass, but only gained momentum. Closing his eyes, Roland automatically reached down with his hand to touch the straining dick at least through his jeans, which suddenly became very tight. But then he abruptly pulled his hand back, because he realized that this would only make it worse. The guy turned on the cold water tap and rinsed his face. It didn't help; his face was flushed, as if he'd been sunburned. Roland suddenly felt sick, not from the alcohol or the drug, but from the realization of the degree of his excitation. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, startled. "I need to calm down, breathe, Roland, breathe, that's the last thing I need to go and jerk off on the image of my best friend...what a fuck...never, never will I smoke this stuff again!"- Roland was madly ashamed of his thoughts; he just did not know where to put himself, and how to get back to the guys. His thoughts were interrupted by a painfully familiar voice outside the door:<br/>
-Ro, how are you? Maybe... maybe do you need help, huh? - Curt's voice was extremely upset and broke slightly in the middle of the sentence.<br/>
-It's all right, I'll be back soon.- Roland tried unsuccessfully to make his voice sound casual, then gave a wry grin at the ambiguity in Curt's innocuous phrase.<br/>
The tension in his jeans began to ease, and Roland, leaning back against the door, slowly slid down it and sat down on the tile floor, holding his head in his hands. His fingers dug into the thick curly hair and massaged his head, trying to restore his thoughts to normal and not to betray his confusion to his colleagues.<br/>
He didn't hear Curt, who was sitting on the other side of the door with a soft sigh, dropping to the floor in sync with him, his arms wrapped around the aching area of the solar plexus and actually curled up.<br/>
When Roland finally realized that the shivering in his body from such a mad state was beginning to subside, he struggled to get up and staggered over to the toilet to flush. Just so that others don't think he's been hanging out here all this time for nothing.<br/>
Turning the door lock and abruptly yanking the tightly closed door, Roland didn't have time to react to Curt sitting there, and Curt stumbled into the bathroom, nearly knocking the guy off his feet.<br/>
- What for are you doing it so abruptly? - He grunted, rising from the floor.<br/>
Roland looked at his friend as if he were a Ghost, as if frozen for a moment, and then, coming out of a momentary trance, he whispered:<br/>
-Have you been here all this time?<br/>
- Of course, - Curt answered, - I couldn't leave, you were so sick. And suddenly you would become even worse, and I would not hear it in this hubbub, - the young man waved a hand in the direction of the neighing company.<br/>
- You're my best friend, how could it be different? - Curt looked into Roland's eyes with devotion.<br/>
Roland whispered "thank you," and patted his friend on the shoulder in acknowledgment, trying not to look him in the eye. The young man was insanely ashamed of the thoughts that had visited him just half an hour ago. How could he even think about it, remembering the sad, worried look in Curt's eyes? This guy may be a bad guy, but he's definitely not into dudes. Yes Roland is, actually, too...maybe...of course not, what kind of nonsense, at all. Roland shook his head, dismissing the unpleasant thoughts that were once again encircling his mind like the tentacles of an octopus. It's just a childhood friend. How long have they known each other? It was eight or ten years. Yes, somewhere like that. It seems to be a short time, but for them it was a big life with a huge number of common experiences, interests, happy and not very moments.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Can you feel it coming in the air tonight...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roland did not recall ever seeing a friend as a sexual object, although the physical intimacy of a friend was always one of the highest standards of comfort for him-warm friendly hugs, casual friendly innocent kisses, just sitting next to each other, leaning against each other – all this was self-evident and so natural. But, of course, he repeatedly noted the very, very attractive appearance of a friend – a kind of Cupid in the body of an adult man or an ancient Greek sculpture of a young man that came to life and descended from the pedestal. The sweet face, the languid sad gaze of dark, deep-set brown eyes under a slightly curled long fringe, the chiseled aristocratic profile, the perfectly defined lips and the oval face, combined with the perfectly smooth and even skin like a baby, dropped the fan girls crazy. The guys were similar in height and build, but Curt seemed a little stronger physically due to the slightly different build of his shoulders. </p><p> And yet, more often than not, such attention to the other guy's appearance was dictated rather by a feeling of mild envy. Roland was extremely insecure and considered himself an ugly duckling compared to Curt sometimes.<br/>
In his youth, it seemed to Roland that if he picked up a guitar, all the girls would immediately fall at his feet and offer themselves one by one. In reality, it was not so rosy. Especially after their Duo was finally formed. In Roland's opinion, the lion's share of women's attention was directed to the handsome Curt, whose face seemed to have been created for commercial posters, and who was also very loved by a video camera. He exploited the image of a romantic dreamy angel on stage, where in life he was rather the complete opposite of this one. And Roland, in the moments of Curt's performance of songs, looked on stage as a sullen and overly serious shadow of a colleague. It seemed to him that his exotic appearance of Spanish-Argentinian-British origin had much less effect on the young, immature minds of the sweet, charming fans, despite the fact that Roland was a very interesting and attractive young man. Thick dark hair that curled in a small curls, a swamp-coloured iris enclosed in a slightly sad section of the eyes, framed by dark fluffy lashes, sensual plump lips - foreign features was immediately guessed  in the face of the young man. The average height and harmoniously formed and graceful figure - all of this created a very pleasant overall impression of the young man. But the most deadly ingredient in this cocktail was Orzabal's voice - in singing it was a low, thick and sonorous easily controlled baritone that he could skilfully bring out in falsetto, and absolutely velvety and insinuating in ordinary conversation.  With his incredible timbre, Roland completely clouded the listener's mind, and he absolutely enslaved the viewer with his bright and uncomplexed manner of performing songs as well. Modestly answering questions about his popularity in various interviews, Roland did not even suspect that the army of his fans, in fact, is no less than Curt's, and maybe even more.</p><p>-Well, dude, you made us nervous, - Manny exclaimed when he saw Roland, pale but smiling, settling down on the couch. - Did the nanny fix you up? - he nodded toward Curt.<br/>
- Come on, you'd think you'd never puked from a binge yourself, - Curt said, immediately coming to his friend's defense, sparing him the trouble of explaining.<br/>
The young man silently looked at his companion and nodded his head slightly, closing his eyes for a moment in gratitude. He didn't want to talk to anyone right now. The guy lay down comfortably on their Studio sofa and, continuing to indulge in the above-described reflections, imperceptibly dozed off.</p><p>«I must find it, I must find it quickly», - Roland panicked, looking around for something, not knowing what it was. He looked around – tall, half-ruined skeletons of old houses, somehow covered with cellophane, hung over his head, and in one of them was himself. The surrounding atmosphere scared him to death, and his body periodically shivered. The young man moved from room to room, but all he saw was ruin and chaos. There was no way to find what he needed. Suddenly, behind him, he heard a crash and realized that the building was about to collapse. We need to get out of here. Roland knew that he had come through the room to the right of him, and then there must be an exit on the left. He seemed to be heading in the right direction, but soon realized with horror that he was simply wandering in circles, and there was no way out. Clammy fear coiled through his body, his heart pounding as if it were about to pick up an unthinkable pace in order to stop in the end. «Curt!» - Roland shouted, but it was only a faint hiss. Taking a deep breath, he tried again: «Curt! Help me, please, where are you? Curt!!!»<br/>
«I'm here, hush, hush...», - the voice of his friend came to him as if from a fog, and the frightened young man finally saw the hand extended to help him.<br/>
- I'm here, Ro, - the voice became clearer and more real, and now Roland could feel the warm, caring hands stroking his head.<br/>
The young man opened his eyes with difficulty and breathed out with relief – it was just a dream, a nightmare, but at the same time perversely fascinating in anticipation of death, just as he described in their victory song 1. Lying on his back, Roland looked up and saw Curt's worried face above him. It seems that he slept all this time with his head on Curt's lap, which is why he was able to wake him up so quickly.<br/>
- And...how did I...- bewildered, Roland, rubbing his face and sitting down on the sofa, " I remember that I fell asleep, but you...why aren't you at home? Damn it, Carolyn!!! - Roland jumped up and ran to the phone, remembering that he hadn't had time to warn his wife. - She's probably going crazy, what time is it?<br/>
-Don't worry, I called her and told her that you were having a little too much fun and that you would stay here and I would look after you. Yes, sit down already, calm down, - Curt explained in a low, slightly purring tone, smiling, and Roland gradually began to calm down from the calmness and softness of his friend's voice.<br/>
-Why didn't you leave? -  Roland sat on the edge of the sofa and massaged his temples with his fingers. – Why the fuck did I wake up lying on top of you?<br/>
-Actually, you were not on me, but only partially, - Curt laughed, - and in general, in my opinion, last night you did not bother this fact at all, - Curt, jokingly, spurred his friend for yesterday's behaviour.<br/>
- Holy shit… - Roland whispered, closing his eyes, remembering the details of last night's party.<br/>
-Seriously,- Curt continued, - it's my fault. I offered you the joint. Honestly, I did not think that you will be so famously stoned, - scratching his head, apologetically explained his intentions young man.<br/>
-That's why I stayed with you. You were moaning and tossing in your sleep, and after I sat down next to you and put your head on my lap, you seemed more or less calm.<br/>
- And the guys? -  Roland asked his friend hoarsely.<br/>
- I don't know, they left almost immediately after you passed out.<br/>
-Thank you, - Roland said sincerely, - it's not your fault, I'm not small myself, and I could have refused. All right, take it easy, it's all right, - the guy said, calming himself rather.<br/>
-I was a little bit...emm...I got carried away yesterday by an excess of emotion," Roland said, trying to clarify the details of his behaviour yesterday, - and I must have been acting a little ... strange…<br/>
-Yes, you've got carried away too much, - Curt whispered under his breath, glancing sideways at Roland to see if he'd heard the phrase.<br/>
But the man sat staring at the wall, not paying much attention to him.<br/>
-I'm going to make some coffee, - Curt said cheerfully, and headed for their Studio kitchenette.<br/>
The coffee, even though it was quite strong, calmed Roland's strained nerves, warmed him, and helped him relax in the end. The rest of the night was spent in the usual conversations of two old friends, fellow musicians, about the anticipation of future success, about improving their compositions and just about everything and nothing.</p><p>The touch of soft, velvety lips...Curt let out a soft sigh. His body was as if weightless, his mind drifting away from the touch of the young man's warm lips to his lips. Roland's lips touched the guy's mouth lightly, and his tongue barely brushed Curt's lower lip. With a gasp, Roland slid his lips from the corners of Curt's mouth down to his neck. He continued to cover the guy's neck with small pinpoint kisses, gradually descending to the collarbone. He ran the tip of his tongue along the collarbone, first one way, then the other, and then abruptly climbed up to the cheekbone. Roland bit the Curt's earlobe and whispered something unintelligible, searing the guy's lower abdomen with the heat of his hot hand.  He continued to kiss the neck of his friend, and lover now , and, reaching the shoulder, gently but perceptibly bit the skin on it, after which Curt groaned, feeling that a little more, and his eggs will explode, and their contents will erupt in a fiery stream, even without additional stimulation of the specified area.<br/>
Suddenly, Curt felt a jolt in his back. And another…<br/>
The guy opened his eyes. It was Lynne, his fiancee, who, turning in her sleep, had accidentally slapped her hand on his back. "It's good that it was a dream," - the guy breathed with some relief, amazed by what he saw in the dream. However, the consequences of the dream were felt more than real - the hardness was very sensible and urgently demanded the continuation of the Banquet.<br/>
Curt stirred under the blanket and immediately hissed from the unintentional stimulation of an erect dick. "I'm not a faggot," - Smith said, frowning. He turned his head and looked hopefully at Linda – a pretty blonde with a gorgeous figure, but for some reason he winced and turned away. With self-loathing, the guy realized that this was not what he would have liked at the moment. Curt raised himself on his elbows, rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand, and looked longingly back at the bulging patch of blanket. With a sigh, he got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Just a few movements brought relief to the suffering body, but not to the inflamed brain of the young man.  His head was completely fogged and empty, his brain completely refused to accept this egregious reality with the constantly surfacing sensual face of a friend with such inviting, swollen lips from kisses.  "This is fucked up," Curt felt sick and almost vomited from the strain, but after a minute it was a little easier, after which he went back to bed and fell into a heavy and intoxicating half-sleep. He was dreaming of his childhood with Roland, they were fooling around, running down the street, chasing a ball, when suddenly a huge dark all-consuming abyss opened up in front of them, which made a terrible hum and eerie screeching sounds, as if from hell, trying to drag Curt there. He clutched at the edge of the abyss, trying to grab the outstretched hand of his panicked friend. But it was all in vain. Curt jumped up in bed in a cold sweat and with a thumping heart, and then did not fall asleep until the morning, looking at the wall clock, lazily counting down the minutes to the point of nausea, as if it was happening in slow motion. </p><p>Much to Curt's relief, a trip to London was scheduled for today to shoot one of the youth TV shows. There will be something to distract him during this long day. These performances, recording, interviews were still a novelty, the guys are very worried and nervous during performances, and especially during the interview.<br/>
Arriving at the venue and staying at the hotel, the friends rehearsed their performance in the TV channel's Studio, gave a short interview, and mocked the unfortunate young inexperienced presenter with a serious look, since it was impossible to answer her stupid questions in any other way. After that, of course, they received a scolding from the producer.<br/>
So, eventually, the appointed time came, and the shooting began. Being in a great mood, the guys began to perform in front of a small crowd consisting mainly of young girls, actively smiling and playing with the audience. As it seemed to Roland, Curt was particularly flirtatious today when performing "Pale Shelter", a charming smile literally did not leave his face, and once he even winked at Roland, so that he choked with surprise, hoping that the cameras were not aimed at him at this moment. And finally Curt baffled Roland with a slow turn of his head in his direction and a languid smile at the words "You don't give me love" near the end of the song, licking his upper lip in his "lizard" manner, without closing his lips. Roland swallowed nervously, looking at the floor so that his flushed, embarrassed face could not be seen. In general, at first sight , there was nothing wrong with this performance, Curt sometimes behaved in this way towards the audience, but today Roland's feelings for some reason were sharpened to the limit, his imagination was played out, and his subconscious began to give him strange pictures towards to himself. </p><p>After playing this sync-lips comedy, the guys went to their hotel.<br/>
Roland wandered around the room from corner to corner, frankly bored and counting the minutes, he didn't want talking to no one really, and there was absolutely nothing to do. He decided to go for a walk in London, to get some air, to think alone, and to gather together elusive thoughts. He was already putting on his coat when the phone rang in the room.<br/>
-Hello, - Roland replied crossly.<br/>
- Ro, get your ass up and get it to Manny's room, and grab Curt – that ghoul won't pick up the phone, - Ian's voice hummed merrily, and a woman's laughter filled the background.<br/>
- Guys, I as something not configured on your whores today, maybe can you handle yourselves without me? – Pleadingly said Roland.<br/>
- Hey-hey, easy with definitions! - Ian said, joking. – Stop, please, let's have some fun. We are the stars now, even we have already groupies, and from yours species they will soften on at all now of course.<br/>
- You seem to have the wrong address, call Curt, this is in his power, - the guy was trying to get out.<br/>
- In short, - Ian's tone was peremptory, - both get the fuck in here right now and that's it, - he hung up.<br/>
- Fuck, the walk is over,-  Roland said irritably. He exhaled noisily as he took off his coat and followed Curt to call him for another party.<br/>
This time, the bandmates, of course, took into account the previous mistake and brought with them five young girls. So that was certainly enough for everyone. Two girls - a sultry, close–cropped brunette with perhaps a fourth breast size and a pleasant green-eyed redhead - immediately fingered Curt and dragged him into a common circle, in the centre of which was a drink and a paper bag from under it, prepared for a game of forfeits.<br/>
Roland got a pretty blonde with the blue naive eyes of Bambi the fawn. She quickly grabbed his arm and sat him uncompromisingly down next to her.<br/>
Ian and Manny hugged and cooed with two shapely, fair-haired beauties and slowly emptied the contents of the bottles.<br/>
- Let's write tasks for the game, - Curt's brunette by the name of Sandy playfully suggested, - and the penalty for non-compliance will be, - she winked conspiratorially, pausing, - to kiss the neighbour on the left in French!<br/>
-Why on the left? -  Curt asked surprising, glancing at one of his female companions, Jenna. He was not particularly interested in her, since they could have settled the matter later. But that blonde girl over there near Roland is.... Sandy pretended not to hear the question, but it was clear why, since her neighbour on the left was Curt, and she didn't particularly like Roland on the right. It didn't occur to her that she was his neighbour, she didn't think about it, and the rest of them didn't really care about the terms of the fine. They began to drink and take out hastily prepared notes from the bag one by one.<br/>
- To sing "Jingle bells"! It's easy, - Anna rejoiced as she completed one of the tasks.<br/>
- Take off your pants and underwear, - Manny was shocked, - no, I'm choosing a fine! - He kissed one of the girls, Julia, noisily.<br/>
The game was continued, very easy, relax, and relatively innocent. Of course, sometimes both guys and girls were cunning to get a kiss instead of a task. And once even had to kiss two girls, as the number of people present was unequal, and this provoked the already well-warmed up alcohol and emotions of the company even more.<br/>
It was Roland's turn again. He pulled out the task, joking, and was dumbfounded as much so that his eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up.<br/>
- Kiss the neighbour on the left ... Hey, that's not fair, who wrote this? - Roland's confusion was understandable, because his left-hand neighbour, Sandy, had just gone to the bathroom, and his neighbour happened to be none other than Curt. – Let's wait for Sandy and continue with her, - he suggested desperately, hoping he wasn't sitting as red as a tomato.<br/>
- Ehh, no, that won't do, - Ian said, snatching the paper from Roland's hand with a devious smile. - The girls were kissing, why we should be condescending to you, - he had already drunk enough to so frivolously demand to perform such a thing from his companions.<br/>
Curt sat with a long face, a little pale from what he had heard. He opened his mouth to mumble some pretext but Roland forestalled him:<br/>
- Ok, well, - Curt abruptly snapped his mouth shut, his eyes were huge and questioning. Roland tried to look cool and make a joke of it, even though his palms were treacherously moist.<br/>
- Go ahead, stick your lips out, - he said cheerfully to Curt.<br/>
Curt relaxed a little and accepted his friend's game. He closed his eyes and funny made his lips in form a chicken-ass to Roland. Roland gave him a quick kiss on the lips and reported:<br/>
- Well, it's done, we continue the game!<br/>
But the girls were extremely dissatisfied.<br/>
- Yeah, sure! It won't do, in French - it means with the tongue as it should. And we didn't see it, - they yelled, - it doesn't count, kiss like we do!<br/>
- Are you kidding me? - That's all Roland could said. What irritated him most about this situation was that Curt was silent, like a fish, and showed virtually no emotion. But the insidious "what-will-happen-in-the-end" feeling that had arisen from nowhere tickled his nerves and demanded satisfaction. What can he do, well, so be it – that he is not a man, or what? Roland moved closer to his friend and made a face so he didn't look too serious.</p><p> - My baby, - Roland said, lowering his voice languidly and raising an eyebrow, taking Curt's face in his hands so that Curt would not dodge, and closing his eyes, he gently touched his lips. In response, there was a barely perceptible reaction from the young man, not disgust. Emboldened, Roland kissed him again, with more pressure, determined to push Curt's lips slightly apart with his tongue, not really hoping for anything. But, quite unexpectedly for him, the young man's mouth opened trustingly, letting him in. Curt's tongue slid nimbly into Roland's mouth, tickling the inside of it nicely, and lingered there for a while, after that Curt sucked his upper lip hard enough. Roland was taken aback and, from the suddenness of these actions, in a rush, he forcefully kissed the guy whose hot palms pinned Roland's thighs to the floor, scorching them with their heat, and made the area of his fly stand out more and more.<br/>
With an effort, Roland was able to break the kiss – the unexpected emotions of the kiss with Curt caught him by surprise, and he, though through the fog in his head and through the noise of his pounding heart, knew that one more action, and the situation would get out of control, and all the jokes would quickly disappear into oblivion. And the guys sitting next to them will not understand this at all. And Curt...what about him. He looked at his friend's face, noting the flushed cheeks and the startlingly fucking and hot look in the blackened eyes, which, in his memory, had never been given to any of the girls he knew. And Roland knew his friend too well, so he was absolutely sure of it. Bitch, he liked it! This discovery so excited Roland that it stirred up all the memories of the previous few days, made him sit back and quietly pulls his sweater lower. The lads cheered and laughed after their kiss, apparently not seeing the crime or taking it seriously, and Roland let out a sigh and stole another look at Curt. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the man was  fidgeted too, but the voluminous sweater that covered his fly gave him no view of the area of interest.</p><p>- Did I miss something? - seeing the flushed and overexcited faces of the men and the rest of the group, Sandy said, disappointed.<br/>
- You missed, but we, believe me, did not lose anything while you were gone! - Manny the shit continued to savour what had happened.<br/>
Curt sat there, neither alive nor dead, trying to calm the trembling in his hands and calm the heart that was trying to jump out of his throat, so much was he shaken by this seemingly playful kiss. He let out a shuddering breath, trying doing it quietly and glanced imperceptibly at Roland through the reappearing girl. Curt wanted to know if something similar to what he felt was reflected in his friend's face, or if it seemed to him that Roland had kissed him with a much more special feeling than he should have.<br/>
But Roland, much to Curt's regret, seemed to be behaving as usual, laughing and joking with everyone, occasionally hugging his blonde companion.  If only he knew how much trouble this imperturbable behaviour had cost Roland. Curt turned away with disappointment and told himself to ignore what had happened and all other thoughts about such things.<br/>
The party smoothly came to its logical conclusion, and the guys and their guests went to their rooms, leaving Manny alone with his current passion.<br/>
Curt followed the girls into the room, closed the door, and threw the keys on the coffee table. The mood was shitty, the girls were annoying as never before. He even wanted to send them home first, but the dull aching clot that had formed in the lower abdomen after a recent event urgently required an outburst of hormones. He didn't want handjobbing again, it seemed disgusting at the opportunity using of quite attractive female individuals. Devils jumped in Curt's eyes – he did not want normal sex, his temperament, bad mood and a charge of very strange emotions from a kiss with Roland craved much more depraved actions.</p><p>***<br/>
1This refers to a line from the song "Mad world": "the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had".  It suggests that dreams of an intense experience, such as death, will be the best release of tension. The song was influenced by the theories of Arthur Janov, the author of "Primal Scream".</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. What has happened to the friend that I once knew?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sandy clung to him, hoping to get her share of affection, but Curt pushed her away roughly enough sprawled on the couch. The girl looked at him blankly, not understanding what was happening.<br/>
- This is after, and now I want, to you caressed her, - Curt clearly pointed out it on plan desired action, nodding at red-haired girlfriend sandy Jenna.<br/>
Sandy looked from Curt to Jenna in a daze:<br/>
– But...We can't, it's wild! -  Sandy resisted, not wanting to do what the guy wanted.</p><p>Jenna was much more compliant and pliable in relation to such desires, and she smiled lasciviously at Curt through half-closed eyelids, went to her girlfriend and passionately kissed her on the lips, despite the girl's resistance. Curt, grinning contentedly at his sudden bout of animal lust, nodded to the girl in approval of their performance. Sandy gradually relaxed, and now, they were caressing each other, lying on the bed. Jenna, languidly sighing for the satisfaction of Curt, caressed the sharp tongue of the brunette's nipple, and she, in turn, entered the taste, already pulled off thin lace panties from her cute girlfriend.<br/>
Curt, almost not breathing, sat on the couch, his arms spread out on its back, fascinated by the way Jenna's tongue, already absolutely nothing shy, gently and skillfully enough slid over the moistened pussy of Sandy, while she wriggled like a snake, lying on her back, with pleasure grabbing the sheets with her hands. His cock still trapped in his trousers, was buzzing with tension. Curt, unbuttoned his trousers took out a strained penis with protruding veins and, stroking it, hoarsely ordered the girls to pay attention to his longing "friend".  Jenna did not take long to wait, and enthusiastically sat down with a wet, prepared with her fingers, cunt on the jingling dick of Curt. The guy, starting a slow forward movement of the hips, decided that it was too simple and somewhat does not correspond to his current mood, so he lay on his back, beckoning to the bored brunette. Curt made the girl hang over his face, putting her in dog-position right in front of the girlfriend's face, so that she was comfortable caressing her with her tongue, so he himself was comfortable watching this spectacle. Aroused to the limit from the diligently played for him "showgirls", the young man accelerated the pace, almost coming from Jenna's sincere enthusiastic moans and convulsive squeezes of her fucked pussy with his dick. Curt stood up, slapping the redhead's firm buttocks, and put Sandy in front of him in a knee-elbow position, squeezing her waist hard over her thighs. He enthusiastically began to mercilessly peck the girl's hot pussy, forcing her to beat in ecstasy after a few moments. The sight of the girl's dark, close-cropped head, with curly hair on top of it, was mocking Curt's overexcited perverse fantasy and drew a completely different image in his head, forcing him to run his hand through Sandy's hair and roughly pull her head towards him. Curt, planted the girl several more times with force, despite her, somewhat dissatisfied with his rudeness, comments, and, with a deep growl, came.<br/>
Catching his breath and brushing sweat from his damp bangs, he dodged the brunette who was trying to cling to him, barely restraining the expression of disgust on his face. He fought the urge to throw them both out of the room right now, despite the sexual pleasures that had just ended between them. Curt was even more irritated by the presence of these girls, along with their endless babble about his irresistibility. His hand went to the phone.</p><p> -You want to invite your charming friend to join us? -  Jenna asked in a low, languid voice, smiling cheekily.<br/>
-No, I want to call you a cab, - Curt said.<br/>
- You mean you're chasing us away? - Not expecting such a turn of events, the girls were indignant with one voice.<br/>
-Yes, I want you to leave, - the guy said dryly, not caring at all about the emotional state of his companions. – Right now.<br/>
-And you're a brute! -  Sandy yelled, impatiently pulling on her stockings while her eyes searched for other items of clothing. - But you seemed so nice.<br/>
Jenna snorted, rolling her eyes at the assumption and finally got dressed and left the room, slamming the door proudly.<br/>
- And I'll tell the press all about what a pervert you are, - Sandy persisted. - Let everyone know about it.-<br/>
- And also what whores you are. You can stand right in front of the hotel right now with a banner. I can also give you a megaphone. - Curt mocked the girl wearily with a wry grin.<br/>
– Only who will believe you, I'm like an angel, -   Curt put on a face so lovely in its innocence that even Roland, who knew his like the back of his hand, would probably have shed a few tears of tender emotion.<br/>
- Go to hell! - Sandy, with a nervous click of her heels, finally went into the unknown, too.</p><p>And Roland just sent his blonde home. Immediately and without hesitation, despite all her antics and pathetic attempts at seduction. He just couldn't. And not even because he was married and loved his wife to distraction, although, of course, this also played an important role, since Roland was very sensitive to family values. But...he couldn't, didn't want, he didn't want her, even though an hour ago his cock was ready to punch a hole in his trousers. Roland was desperate not to think of such an unhealthy cause of arousal; he was afraid to think of it, because all of it was wrong, and it shouldn't be. What if he called Curt now and just didn't find out once and for all? "No," - Roland said, shaking his head, - "He's probably not up to it right now, and how can I even start a conversation like this?". He rubbed his neck with his hand just below the back of his head, twirled it from side to side, flexing the vertebrae, and, not finding any reasonable solution to the problem that was bothering him, gave up on everything, went to take a shower, then went to bed and fell into an anxious sleep.</p><p>Curt couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in bed, crumpling the sheets, trying desperately not to think about anything and go to sleep, but nothing came out. He wanted to talk to his friend, to talk about everything as always, as before, to share his experiences, but the problem was that these experiences were directly related to Roland now, and this fact imposed its own limitations. What a ridiculous savagery. Curt got up, dressed, and left the room. With quiet, inaudible steps, he went to the door of Roland's room and raised his fist to knock on the door. But... he froze with raised hand, so as banal he scared. What would he say? Roland, I thought you liked me. Can we repeat it to figure it out, because I didn't understand? It's an unbridled stupidity. The likelihood that he would just get a fist in his face and end up losing a friend outweighed all other curiosity. Feeling a surge of annoyance and exasperation at his own cowardice, Curt turned and shuffled back to his room.</p><p>When he got home, Curt sat at the dining table in his kitchen and thought. Lynne had gone shopping with her friends, and he could finally think about it. Why did  everything suddenly change so much? Where was this turning point? Why was he suddenly seeing his best friend in the other way? The boy they were fooling around with, playing football, watching stupid comedies on TV, crunching chips, discussing girls, enthusiastically sharing their first sexual experiences. Curt remembered how calm and reasonable Roland always pulled him out of various scrapes that Curt always managed to get into. He thanked him with a smile for saving that face from the pile of scars that might have come from getting into fights all the time. And once Curt even stole a few violins from the school music room to give them to Roland, and Roland even tried to learn how to play them to justify the fact of this stupid theft. Oh, dear friend Roland… </p><p>Later, the friends had one idea for two, which brought them more closer together. The boys became interested in the theory of "Primal scream" by the American psychoanalyst Arthur Janov. The essence of this theory was to get rid of obsessive childhood fears by throwing out their emotions and experiences and the subsequent mental and mental relief. Actually, the name of their group, "Tears For Fears" - they've also taken it from this theory. Curt supported his friend in studying this question and, as a result, became passionately interested in this theory himself.  It was a shared experience, a shared brainchild, a secret, into the depths of which they had never fully initiated anyone else.</p><p>So what happened now? Why can't he answer all the questions that were asked earlier? Was this feeling of affection, of childish friendship, of youthful fraternity, of spiritual kinship, suddenly beginning to grow into something more? How is this possible? They were two normal guys, Roland was already married, and Curt was going to be married, too. They always met girls and that was all. There was not even a hint of any intimate detail. Well, except that Roland used to kiss him on the cheek, but that never meant anything except an expression of praise or something. Although, Curt suddenly noted to himself, he seemed to like it, and sometimes he waited for it, and even a little upset if Roland did not perform the usual action.  Curt chuckled. Really, though, and he hadn't thought about it before. Was there ever a physical attraction? It seems unlikely...of course, they had seen each other naked when changing, this is normal, but to the naked body of each other have any impact on his own body – this was not it for sure. Again, more often than not, sneaking a peek at Roland's body was more of an assessment of their physical potentials, or, more simply, a normal measurement of their manhood. Curt chuckled, remembering the shamefaced contentment he had felt in his youth when he realized that Roland was only slightly inferior to him. However, this did not affect Roland's sexual career in any way, although he was a shy man, but when dealing with the opposite sex, his charm and natural charisma did not leave the girls a single chance.</p><p>So Curt came up with a very important memory. </p><p>One day, before the time of "Graduate", when they were about fifteen years old, they agreed to meet in their small makeshift "Studio", located in a small room, which was provided as a place for rehearsals by one of their mutual friends. Curt was bored sitting at home alone, so he decided to go there much earlier than he wanted earlier. When he arrived, he saw that the front door was slightly ajar, but some inner instinct prevented Curt from swinging into the room. Listening to the sounds from inside, Curt whistled in surprise – the characteristic creaks, puffs, and muffled moans intrigued him immensely. Trying not to creak the door, Curt carefully opened it, and this allowed him one eye to observe what was happening inside, criminally feeling like a real voyeur. In the room, among a pile of guitars and synthesizers, not noticing anything around, Roland enthusiastically fucked a familiar girl from College. Curt, trying not to make any noise, as if fascinated, watched the rhythmically moving hips of a friend, hammering his penis into the girl's vagina. Looking at the beads of sweat on his body and on Roland's ecstatic face, glistening in the light that filtered through the cracks in the walls, Curt naturally forgot how to breathe, completely dazed by this incredible in its perverse appeal spectacle. The faint creak of the door brought him out of his trance, and Curt, afraid of being caught red-handed, rushed out of there and disappeared around the corner of the nearest house, where he was finally able to catch his breath and trying to realize this scene with Roland in the main role, which, in the opinion of a young guy full of testosterone, was cooler than any porn.</p><p>He didn't know exactly what had shocked him so hard, but one fact was clear as day: it wasn't the sight of a naked girl - it wasn't interesting for him. To Curt's shame, a very different image periodically popped up in his mind that he didn't actually want to see even in the back of his mind. But memory is a selective thing, it didn't care about the guy's wishes, and sometimes it excited his blood with memories of that day at the sight of Roland, making Curt blush and hide his eyes for some unknown reason.<br/>
Of course, after a while, in the heat of his rather stormy youth, this memory was lost, fuelled by nothing. It had been quietly living somewhere in the back of his mind in order to it used to come to the surface now and  become the first part of the puzzle in the overall picture of Curt's shattered worldview.  </p><p>He decided to talk to Roland today at any cost. Hoping that Roland was in the Studio as usual, Curt put on his denim jacket and was about to leave when the front door opened and Lynne returned.<br/>
- Are you leaving for a while? - she asked hopefully.<br/>
- I don't know, Lynne, darling, how it's going to work, Roland's waiting for me in the Studio, we need to work on new material, - Curt lied.<br/>
- Can we at least have a day off together? - Lynne missed Curt a lot. </p><p>The more he immersed himself in the world of music, the more frequent and prolonged his periods of absence from home became. Linda was annoyed by this, even though she tried to understand the desire of the guys to have a chance of bettering themselves and achieve heights in the work to which they had a craving and undeniable talent. In all honesty, she didn't really approve of this hobby, considering it frivolous. Despite the fact that the young people noticed each other at one of the performances of "Graduate" (Curt looked very tense and serious on stage, and Lynne, being in the crowd of spectators, managed to attract the attention of a pretty stern guy, making faces and trying to cheer him up), Linda secretly hoped that music in their lives would still be a fleeting phenomenon. And in the future, Curt will become an English teacher, as he originally wanted, and they will have a normal and measured family life. Only Curt wanted to strangle himself from such prospects now, and he gently but persistently continued to explain to the bride that everything is still ahead, they need to wait a little, that he and Roland will be able to achieve great success that will amaze her. But instead of it more than that, she was sometimes struck by Roland himself – he sometimes scared her to distraction with his strange way of communicating, his heavy, depressing eyes, and his eerie sense of humor, which Curt saw as nothing out of the ordinary to her great disappointment. These two guys demonstrated a frighteningly universal degree of mutual understanding at some higher level, understandable only to the two of them. Sometimes Lynne felt superfluous in their company, secretly envying Caroline, Roland's wife, because intuitively knew part of those secret points of contact in the communication of guys and was, though small, but still part of this construction called "The Relationship of Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith".</p><p>- Honey, look, we now more than ever needs a lot of work, otherwise it will not do anything good, - Curt dreamily looked off into the distance, thinking actually about something else. - I'll go, but I promise that tomorrow I'm all yours – you can do whatever you want with me, - Curt winked playfully at the girl, kissing her gently on the lips.<br/>
- I'll take you at your word, Mr. Smith, or you'll be punished by going to my beloved aunt Mary's, - Lynne pretended to be stern, but finally laughed at the sight of Curt's sour face and kissed the lad back, closing the door behind him. </p><p>Curt hurried up to the Studio and found Roland playing the xylophone. He was frowning and biting his lip, intently beating out the rhythm, and apparently he wasn't very good at it. Roland was sweating a little from what seemed to be hours of labour, and even took off his shirt to keep it from getting so hot.<br/>
- Oh, hello, Curt! - He greeted his friend cheerfully. – How are you? -  Roland sat up and flexed his spine, and Curt quickly shifted his gaze from watching the muscles game in Roland's back play to the musical instrument.<br/>
- Hi! -  Curt said, a little hoarsely. – And where did we get the xylophone, and most importantly why? - Clearing his throat, he continued with interest, looking at the novelty in their "temple of music". Curt tried to play a tune and chuckled contentedly.<br/>
- A cool thing, - and he approved it in the end.<br/>
- I bought it at a sale in that shop around the corner, not far from home, - Roland said, waving his hand in an uncertain direction.<br/>
– I wrote a song, but ... while it's a sketch, and I had a melody in my head, but it didn't fit. And as I passed the shop, I saw this xylophone in the window, and then it dawned on me, - Roland said, handing Curt sheets of text and notes.<br/>
- But, it doesn't work, I can't fucking do it, - on the word "fucking" Roland's face has become so pathetically miserable, like a small child who is about to cry. Roland tapped the key thoughtfully with his drumstick and went into his own thoughts, not noticing how pale Curt turned after reading the lyrics of the new song.</p><p>And something on your mind<br/>
Became a point of view<br/>
I lost your honesty<br/>
You lost the life in you</p><p>We walk and talk in time<br/>
I walk and talk in two<br/>
Where does the end of me<br/>
Become the start of you?</p><p>When it's all too late<br/>
It's all too late</p><p>Change<br/>
You can change</p><p>Curt felt cold as he read the text, then hot. Roland never wrote anything for nothing, he's not the kind of person to throw words to the wind, even if he said it was just empty chatter. Every phrase he said, every line he wrote, had a deep meaning.<br/>
The last fragment has killed Curt finally:</p><p>What has happened to<br/>
The friend that I once knew?<br/>
Has he gone away?</p><p>Curt looked up at Roland, waiting for some explanation. But Roland sat with his head slightly turned away, and, as if sensing Curt's gaze, responded to the silent question:<br/>
-Will you... will you sing it? -  Roland asked quietly.<br/>
Curt's throat was dry. He can't make a sound now, let alone sing. It was as if Roland had been poking around in his soul at his leisure, pulling out the innermost part of it, literally turning it inside out, and now making him voice it all? Voice the same sick feelings that have been bothering him all this time? How did he do it? Or did he write about himself? God,  how everything is confused.</p><p>The friends always understood each other's moods very well. They sometimes said the same thing at the same time, moved, synchronously making the same movements, mirrored each other in the movements, without realizing it. Many people sometimes laughed and joked that Curt and Roland were Siamese twins who had been separated as children. Their mental connection was beyond the pale, as this text confirmed. But now this connection gave nothing but pain: the friends did not yet understand how close to the truth they were, being frightening and repulsing this egregious reality, unable to speak directly.<br/>
Roland asks to "change". How should he understand this? What to change, how and why? Damn it all.<br/>
Trying to wipe the confusion from his face, Curt asked Roland to play and sing a tune. With all his strength and will, Curt was able to sing something more or less passable, although it was extremely difficult for him. </p><p> - Ro, why me?  Why don't you sing this song? - Curt asked at the end of recording the demo, a rough draft of the song.<br/>
- I want you to sing it, - Roland answered completely honest and guileless. He didn't even say anything about the song not matching his own vocals or anything else. No, he just put it in front of the fact so that Curt found nothing to object to, and besides, refusing to perform the song could lead to a number of questions that Curt was not yet ready to answer. All his determination to talk to Roland clearly was blown away again in a hurricane of confusion and confusion.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Is this the start of the breakdown? I can't understand you...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roland was consumed by the same problem. The suspense, the incompleteness, the mystery that had suddenly sprung up between them, oppressed Roland, baffled him. It was as if some unknown substance had suddenly appeared between the friends, dense, electrified, and sparkling. It created a strange tension, randomly scattering charges around, simultaneously attracting the guys and creating an unusual distance between them that they could not yet overcome. Roland needed to understand what was in his friend's mind, but could he ask it directly? And he decided to act like a true musician and author – he dressed all his thoughts in a musical vestment and presented Curt on a platter waiting for answers.</p><p>But, despite everything, to his great disappointment, Roland found no response in the emotion on Curt's face. His expression seemed completely unbiased, even a little cold and distant. Of course, Roland could not know that this concealment of emotion was only a defensive reaction of his friend to the effect produced by the words of the song; he could not know how much effort it cost him to maintain his composure at that moment. Frustrated by the lack of any reaction from Curt, Roland sat down at the synthesizer, hunched over as if he had a giant mountain the size of mount Everest on his shoulders, and began to play various nonsense. The joy of writing a new song, the anticipation that Curt would finally understand his message, and that they would at least be able to solve the problem they had created in their relationship, faded like Sunny weather in London.<br/>
Curt continued to sit with a stony face – the words still in his head and were in his throat. Looking at the sad Roland, whose brows were drawn together, and feeling that he was about to burst into tears, Curt knew that something must be done; that he, for some reason, had hidden his feelings, and only spoiled everything. To lighten the atmosphere, which had become so heavy, Curt got up and went to make coffee, slamming the cabinet doors loudly in search of cookies or some sweets.<br/>
- Want some coffee? - Curt suggested to Roland. – I found cookies, chocolate ones, - he continued, stuffing several cookies in your mouth.<br/>
- I'd like something stronger right now, - Roland said faintly.<br/>
- What? - Curt choked on a crumb and coughed.<br/>
- I will..., I say, give it here, - the young man muttered and taking up his coffee Cup, he stared at one point again without taking a sip.<br/>
- You look strange today. What is to blame for such sudden mood swings this time? Suddenly changed magnetic field, retrograde Mercury or banal huge fly that managed to bit your ass while I went for coffee? - Curt decided to play dumb, hoping in a playful way to get sad Roland on some semblance of a conversation.<br/>
- Fly, yeah, that's it, - Roland wanted to get the hell out of here as quickly as possible, so that he wouldn't see this "fly" crunching annoyingly with cookies. – Never mind, I simply is content, I indeed need to go home and for a holiday, I  spend here too many time, - He has sighed hard, looked on burning their fingertips cup with fragrant coffee, which he  would already long drank in another situation, demanding supplements. Even the sight of it irritated him now. And in general, everything of it, including this Studio. Roland set the cup down on the table and was about to get up when he was suddenly set down into place by the force of Curt's hands, which suddenly found themselves on his shoulders and began massaging them with precise and powerful movements. Roland, at first taken aback by such a sudden physical contact and frowning, moved indignantly, trying to escape, but Curt again, slightly, but noticeably pressed on his shoulders, making it clear that resistance is useless. The young man, feeling his cheeks begin to glow with heat, eventually preferred to relax under the pressure of warm, soft, but masculine strong hands of the friend, wondering why he was suddenly so worried and confused. It was as if this was the first time, although this practice of stagnant blood moving was commonplace between them, and it was never perceived as something obscene. As Curt murmured softly, talking about everything to drown out the oppressive silence that so viciously scratched Roland's inflamed brain, he enjoyed the warm waves of bliss from the effect of a light and, in fact, innocent massage that smoothly covered his body from head to toe. Unbeknownst to himself, Roland began to fall into a weightless, comfortable half-sleep, dreaming that he had made a mistake and understood everything wrong, that this impulse of Curt's meant at least a hint of a small reciprocity in relation to his feelings. So, immersed in their thoughts, the guys did not hear the steps outside the front door and the turn of the key in the keyhole.</p><p>- Hello, dudes! -  Ian's voice was abruptly loud and cheerful in the doorway. - Daddy brought to you here to devour, and then you will soon die here, not eating.<br/>
Curt recoiled from his companion in surprise, as if they had been caught at least kissing, and, from a feeling of stupid awkwardness, even forgot that it was necessary to at least say Hello.<br/>
-I see you've got a taste for it, haven't I? - Ian continued, laughing, as he hung his jacket on the rack by the front door, catching a glimpse of what he and Roland were doing.<br/>
- I even not thought, that you this so love..., - Ian not managed finish another barb, so as his jaw suddenly collided with Curt's fist, which wild a ferocious cat suddenly pounced on keyboardist.<br/>
Roland, who usually didn't take Ian's sarcastic and sardonic jibes seriously, didn't immediately realize what was going on, so it was only after a couple of moments that he shook his stupor and ran to the fighting men and began to pull the furious, kicking Curt away from Ian as he raised his hand for the next sweeping blow.<br/>
- You're a moron, or what? I was just joking, - Ian said, wiping the blood from his split lip and laughing nervously at the same time.  -Here, you idiot. Roland, put your Doberman on a chain, fuck it, he's mad, - Ian wanted to pass by the guys, but even he, with his, clearly exceeding Curt's, build, was afraid of this guy in anger.<br/>
- Curt, calm down, - Roland tried to speak in a quiet calm voice, because if he now growled at his friend, then he could get fist in the face too. Just because.<br/>
Roland tried to push Curt out of the door, simultaneously grabbing his sweater and their jackets from the rack and shoving their demo tape for Ian to listen to while him and Curt were away.</p><p>The guys, scattering piles of dead leaves with their feet, silently followed each other along the shore of a small pond, looking at the quietly and steadily falling leaves and trees, which were gradually gilded and coloured with red fire flashes in the rather cool early autumn this year. Finally, Curt stopped, because he was tired of wandering around aimlessly, waiting for Roland to start the conversation first. But Roland remained stubbornly silent, leaning his back against the thick trunk of a sprawling tree, and Curt, out of frustration, began to throw pebbles making them jump like "frogs" on the water with sharp jerky movements, spilling out the accumulated irritation.<br/>
- Curt, uh... he's...- Roland began, - He meant no harm, is he? When you finally grow up and stop exploding on every little thing? - That’s not really what Roland wanted to ask, but it was as if his tongue was paralysed and a completely different question was born.<br/>
- What? -  The guy fumed again. – Haven't you heard, he called us fags, Holy shit, what a joke! - Curt angrily threw another pebble, which gurgled noisily and immediately sank to the bottom, not wanting to jump on the water.<br/>
- Have you forgotten where Ian and we met? Memory suddenly gone? Let me remind you - at the gay vegetarian disco, - Roland retorted sarcastically, emphasizing the "gay" word. – And I can't say that you felt like an odd person there all the time and after that, so why the hell are you playing the English virgin – "not a drop in your mouth, not an inch in your ass"?!<br/>
- We were practically children then, and we were just having fun, you know. And we’re...well, you never know what happened once when we were drunk, everybody started this fucking farce ourselves, and now they're fucking laughing, - Curt didn't think so at all, but for some reason he couldn't stop lying to Roland enthusiastically, getting more and more angry, now more and more at himself.<br/>
- It doesn't mean anything! It's just..., - Curt blurted out, then stopped abruptly as Roland's sharp gaze snapped up at him. He immediately felt ashamed of his words, but, unfortunately, what is said is said.<br/>
- Yeah. You're right, of course, it doesn't mean anything, it's nothing, - Roland said under his breath, looking directly into Curt's eyes. Roland's face was flushed, as if he had just received the most severe and stinging slap in his life. And the most offensive thing was that it came from the person closest to him, who for some unknown reason was standing opposite him now and brazenly lying to him directly in the eyes, as if mocking him.<br/>
- I'll go, - Roland said quietly, trying not to look at Curt. – I promised..I promised Caroline to visit her parents today. – He made the stupidest excuse to get out of here and not see or hear Curt. He just couldn't take it anymore, he had to go now, or he would burst into tears right here and now, like a stupid, stupid girl who had been rudely rejected. He should have left back then, in the Studio, and not cherish these stupid ghostly hopes for feelings that by definition had no right to life.<br/>
- You shouldn't go back to the Studio right now, Ian will handle it, - he continued, looking off into the distance. – See you later.</p><p>Roland turned and walked away from the place, for the first time in his life without even shaking hands with his friend, leaving him in a state of complete confusion. He walked down the street briskly, made depressed and frustrated, and soon realized that each new step is given to him harder, it became increasingly difficult to breathe, heart comes into jagged galloping rhythm, and for a moment Roland thought he was going to faint from the overflowing of his feelings and emotions. He sat down on the first available bench to catch his breath and recover. Roland tried to take a deep breath, but realized that it was in vain, because his eyes tingled treacherously, and after a moment, small, burning tears appeared on the lashes of the young man. He sobbed, unable to restrain this unbearable bitterness any longer and the tears, no longer restrained, poured out of his eyes in a furious torrent. Roland covered his face with his hands so that no one would see his sudden weakness, and only the slight trembling of his shoulders from barely suppressed loud sobs betrayed his condition. For the same reason, Roland hadn't noticed Curt on the other side of the street, who had been following him all this time and was now watching from a distance, hating himself for the pain he had so easily inflicted on Roland a few minutes ago.</p><p>Curt slammed his fist against the pillar, not even feeling the pain, and not noticing the guy who was swinging away from him, twirling at his temple. The pain in his chest, the mental pain that pressed and twisted his insides, completely overshadowed the physical pain. He looked at such a very young figure of a young man, suddenly very small, curled up in a ball on that bench, and berated himself mercilessly, cursing his unbearable character. Roland, who looked like a boy barely eighteen now. This young man in his incomplete twenty-two years managed to carry through so much shit from his close people, especially from his father. It had so traumatized him when he was a child that Roland had only just found a way to get out alive of the unbearable psychological problem that had plagued his life for so many years. Now, please. Now his best friend, the person closest to him at this time of life, is sneering to his feelings. After all, Roland was trying, in his own strange way, to clear up the fog in their relationship, and Curt just messed it up, as usual, scared of himself. "Why am I such an asshole? - He continued to scold himself for his impetuosity. "Why can't I just shut up in time?"- Curt again looked on Roland – he wanted run up now to him, hug, hug to itself, placate, but ... of course, he again lacked courage, fearing, that Roland simply will send his now far away.</p><p>In the meantime, Roland wiped his wet face with the back of his hand like a child, sniffed with a swollen nose, and, rising from the bench, raised his head confidently, as if there were no tears, and went to the road to catch a cab.<br/>
Curt, looking at this metamorphosis, admired how in an instant, from a beaten, tearful child, Roland suddenly grew into a grown man, proudly straightening his shoulders to meet his difficult life. He's definitely a very strong man, which Curt couldn't say for himself. "And I'm just a coward, a filthy, cowardly coward," - and he went to the bus stop, head down, to wait for the bus. </p><p> They had not spoken for three days – an unthinkable period for a quarrel during their entire existence together. Usually quarrels between the guys were superficial – even after a stormy showdown, already after half an hour, friends could laugh at each other as if nothing had happened. Curt was restless from the lack of communication with Roland – he was ready to howl from constantly going to visit the bride's relatives and their mutual friends, but he promised her, so he humbly accepted this marathon. Although, to be honest, it was a pretty good distraction from thinking about their quarrel with Roland, or rather, from all that had preceded it. Otherwise, Curt would probably have gone crazy.</p><p>Roland spent all this time in the Studio, polishing the finished tunes as always, even if no one else wanted to work. The work calmed his nerves and kept him from going completely off the rails. Roland waited for other words from his friend, or at least silence. Instead, Curt, always honest to the core in his statements, told him that nothing happened. So it was true – and Roland, naive as a child, had just invented this new world, where Curt suddenly thought of him as more than just a friend. God, he just saw what he wanted to see: that Curt's gaze was lingering on him longer than usual, that his touch was being a little warmer, more intimate, more careful, that the color on his friend's cheeks was shining brighter than usual when they were together. Roland, you're just an idiot, projecting your feelings on another person doesn't mean reciprocating at all.<br/>
The guy sighed, angrily slamming the sequencer panel, which didn't want to sync with the synth and drum machine.<br/>
- And what do I want from you, you're “Roland” too, - the musician said softly, running his fingers over the brand name on the instrument panel. – How can we be smart?</p><p>Meanwhile, Curt, completely mad from idleness, loitering here and there in the flat, after all gathered the resolve to apologize to his friend and talk to him. It was his fault, and it was extremely stupid to sit around waiting for everything to resolve itself. Before he finished his morning coffee, he abruptly left the room, hastily kissed Lynne, who had opened her mouth at Curt's sudden change of direction, dressed hastily, and hurried to the Studio, hoping that Roland was there. Curt knew that today, under the influence of his impulsiveness, he would either save their friendship or destroy it forever. Probably it will be a start of the breakdown. And again, fears and doubts began to get under his skin with their vile paws, trying to get deeper and toxic his veins with their poison. Nevertheless, Curt, determined to find out everything once and for all, shook this disease and, sitting on a bench in the Park near the Studio, polished his resolve with a quarter of a bottle of cognac, bought for a difficult conversation.<br/>
Alcohol loosens the tongue,  the half-drunk young man thought, coming closer and closer to the cherished doors, breathing deeply, trying to calm the galloping heart. Sweating with excitement, he pushed open the door to the Studio - it was unlocked -and paused on the threshold, listening to Roland sing. Never before had this song sounded so shrill in his performance – not at all shy of falseness, now and then Roland’s voice emotionally cracked on the lines of the chorus. And, although Curt knew perfectly well that these words were Roland's personal experience of his childhood, now this text seemed to take a different form and a different meaning.</p><p>....Watch me bleed<br/>
Bleed forever<br/>
Watch me bleed<br/>
Bleed forever<br/>
Although my face is straight, it lies<br/>
My body feels the Pain and cries</p><p>Here the table is not bare<br/>
I am full but feeling empty<br/>
For all the warmth it feels so cold<br/>
For one so young I feel so old...</p><p>The singing stopped abruptly, and Curt was roused from his reverie by Roland's deep hollow voice:<br/>
- How long are you going to stand there? I don't bite, unlike some people.<br/>
Curt hesitated for a moment, then went in and closed the door behind him.<br/>
- Hello, - Roland greeted him rather dryly. - Did you miss work? - He quipped.<br/>
- Hi. Yes..I mean, no, - Curt began to get confused in his excitement, - oh, fuck…<br/>
- Did you get drunk this morning? Only aristocrats or degenerates drink champagne in the morning, and as far as I know, you are not blue-blooded, - Roland was stung by Curt's long absence and his sudden appearance, reeking of alcohol.<br/>
- Not champagne, but cognac, - Curt said, sitting down on the sofa, his eyes downcast and frowning.  He took a half-empty bottle from his bosom and handed it to Roland.<br/>
Roland took the bottle and took a few sips of the scalding drink – although he wanted to kill Curt now, he admitted that Curt had definitely made the right decision with the cognac.<br/>
Curt sat there, afraid to look up at his friend, biting his lips with blood. Finally, unable to stand Roland's gaze burned hole in his head, he blurted out, leaning his torso forward in the direction of his friend:<br/>
- Ro, I'm sorry, huh?  Well, then...It's not like that, just ... just, I don't know how to explain it, - the forced words poured out of him in a torrent.<br/>
- I don't know what came over me, I was just confused when Ian came in..and..exploded, you know me. I have such a mess in my head, I don't know what's going on with me, - Curt almost cried, looking at Roland pleadingly, in the hope that he, being by nature wiser and more reasonable, will help them get out of this maze.<br/>
Roland ruffled his hair with his hand and exhaled, not knowing what to say or do next.<br/>
- And what's going on? - He boomed. – You said actually otherwise a few days ago. Something suddenly changed, huh? - Roland persisted in pretending not to understand what he was talking about, although his heart was leaping out of his chest and his palms were covered with a cold, unpleasant perspiration.<br/>
- Don't answer a question with a question, I'm sure you know exactly what I'm talking about, - Curt said quickly, breaking into a scream, sometimes stammering and swallowing the end of the words. – We've been acting like idiots lately, like strangers who don't know how to behave with each other. Well, answer me, don't you feel...that? Am I the only one who thinks I'm going crazy, and these dreams…, - Curt looked into Roland's eyes, which had turned completely black, as if they were looking through him. Roland was silent. Curt got up from the couch, walked away, turned his back on Roland, and crossed his arms over his chest, thinking that he shouldn't have started this.<br/>
- Ok, - Curt didn't want to show his weakness, but one unsolicited tear still managed to roll down his cheek, lingering on his chin . - Let's forget.  Forget what I said then and what I said today. Let's consider it ours..or maybe only my imagination just got a little wild,  - Curt's shoulders twitched a little at the sound of a silent sob. - And I made it all up…</p><p>Suddenly, Roland's warm, strong arms wrapped around Curt's shoulders, locking on his chest before he could finish the sentence. Roland silently buried his nose in the back of his friend's head, sniffing funny, inhaling such a familiar and home body odor, unable to utter a word. With an embrace, he tried to stop the flow of these words, filled with misery, words that had been running through his head for weeks.</p><p>Stunned by Roland's action, Curt froze, trying not to move, lest some misguided movement should push him away again. With his back Curt could feel the frantic beat of Roland's heart behind him, which was in unison with his heart, knocking his breath out and forcing him to take a deep breath to keep from fainting. Roland ran the back of his fingers along the guy's tear-soaked cheek, and then, with the tips of his fingers, gently stroked from cheek to neck, pushing the ridiculous thin braids to the side so that with a barely perceptible touch, his lips touched Curt's neck just below the nape of his neck. The guy forgot how to breathe, unconsciously exposing his neck for more convenient contact. Roland, emboldened by the cognac and stunned by the fact that Curt does not pull away or resist, and even on the contrary – it seems completely calm, began to cover his neck with a lot of small careful kisses, running his hand under Curt's sweater, feeling the palm of his hand as his press tensed, almost going crazy from the noisy exhalation of his friend at this moment.<br/>
- I can feel it, just… don't push me away, please, otherwise...I'm so afraid, it's driving me crazy too, - Roland whispered hotly, pressing his lips to the patch of skin behind Curt's ear, searing it with his breath, - and I can't put it into words, I don't know how. But I know exactly what I want... - He jerked Curt around to face him, and taking Curt's face in his hands and looking him straight in the dazed eyes, just touching, pressed his lips to his nervously bitten ones.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. All in good time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roland shyly, barely breathing, touched his lips to Curt's lips, stroking his hair gently, not daring to go any further, although his only desire now was to press firmly those flushed, inviting Curt's lips, so that he would be blown away completely. He barely restrained himself from giving way to an unnecessary and, perhaps, still inappropriate passion. But it was difficult for him to do so, looking into Curt's half-closed, misty eyes. Roland drew back slightly, gazing with undisguised admiration at the startlingly exciting features of his friend's face: black, absolutely black eyes with a sexy pall, a scarlet blush on the cheekbones, and this mouth, half-open in anticipation of a kiss...<br/>
Roland with a quiet moan again fell to Curt's lips, gently, but demanding and insistent kissing them. Then he opened his eyes wide in surprise as Curt grabbed ahold of him tightly, pressing his body closer to his one. Roland's hands moved along Curt's back, studying the unfamiliar feel of the strong muscles of the man's back under his palms, which made him even more excited.<br/>
Curt, in turn, broke off the slow kiss, touched Roland's lips lightly, looking at them with lust, smiling a little boldly from under his half-lowered lashes in his own way, and then smeared his tongue on Roland's lower lip, quickly looking into his instantly darkened eyes. Noting this reaction with satisfaction Curt decided to deepen the kiss, enjoying it a little lazily, touching his tongue with Roland's one. As he stroked his friend's neck with one hand, Curt felt Roland's heartbeat quicken with the other one, and from his ragged, hot breath tickled in the lower abdomen.<br/>
Roland's hot hands, slipping nimbly under Curt's sweater, made his body shudder slightly, and the tips of his fingers, which ran gently along his spine, made him arched in his back, giving Roland the opportunity to move to the caresses of his neck, which made Curt, completely unable to restrain himself, groan in his voice. Swaying slightly with emotion, Curt leaned his butt against the table next to him, allowing Roland to almost fall on top of him, leaving less space between their bodies.<br/>
Roland, no longer shy about anything and not thinking much about anything other than this fantastic physical contact, since all the blood that should have been in his brain had suddenly found a new placement nestled his groin into Curt's thigh, slightly confusing him with the hardness of the erection that had arisen. And in turn Curt's cock, which was already straining a little, instantly reacted. From the feeling of this incredible extravagant proximity, from the contemplation of such a sensual, trusting him with his emotions, Curt's face, from the kisses of these soft, surprisingly affectionate lips of the guy, Roland completely blew away – he began to pull the sweater off Curt, ignoring his attempts to stop this process.</p><p>- Roland! Ro!!! - Curt resisted, pulling the sweater back on.</p><p>Roland stared blankly at his friend, slowly returning his consciousness from the other galaxy to its place.</p><p>- Ro, there's someone coming! -  Curt pushed Roland away from him regretfully, jumping onto the couch, and hastily covered the protruding area of his fly with a decorative pillow, regretting that today he had to pull on these uncomfortable skinny jeans instead of the usual loose trousers. Roland, finally recovering himself, sat down on a chair, grabbing his guitar to also hide the result of such a fruitful rehearsal. But his hands refused to obey, and his fingers, like insensitive sausages, slid along the strings, trying to give a confused brain a signal about the possible remaining skills of playing the guitar.</p><p>The front door swung open with a bang - their friends appeared there, Manny who had a sad expression on his face, and Ian, waving his long arms wildly and actively. </p><p>- Nah, did you see it? This is..., - he tossed a youth music magazine on the table. - These faggots painted again all outstripped.<br/>
- What do you mean? -  Curt reached for the magazine, puzzled, but didn't remove the lifesaving pillow.<br/>
-I mean while you're drinking here, - Ian waved his hand vaguely in the air, alluding to the alcoholic bouquet, - these dressed-up fags are at the top of the charts!<br/>
- Simon's kind of straight, - Roland said, seeing the familiar name of one of the most popular pop groups on the top of the charts, though with a hint of doubt. - Girls like them. This is not surprising with their glamorous style.<br/>
- HOW?!  How is it that, - Ian pointed to a bright photo on the cover of a magazine with a picture of guys in makeup and strange outfits, - could girls like it?! Explain to me?<br/>
- Should boys like it?  Are you so mad about this that he's not yours? -  He continued to tease his colleague.<br/>
- And maybe you are…. as it, latent homosexual? - Curt continued his friend's joke conspiratorially.<br/>
- Whaaat? -  Ian didn't realize at first. - Fuck, Curt, now I'll gonna pull your eye on your ass and make it to blink, you haven't still responded me  for scuffle, - snapped he through a moment, under universal laughter.<br/>
- Manny, will you even support me? -  He turned to his companion with a desperate look, and after a moment frowned. - What a fuck do you do, and you too? - He took the long-suffering bottle from Manny, which contained less than a quarter of the contents.<br/>
- I can, I'm stressed, - Manny took the bottle back and took another sip of it.<br/>
- So. All right - these two.  They seem normal people at any rate, when they drunk, - Ian waved a hand in the direction of the two friends, despite their surprised glances, - And what's wrong with you?<br/>
- I'm.. I had a hamster ... he exploded ....and…</p><p>Roland burst out laughing before Manny could finish, and Curt whimpered softly, holding his belly with one hand sliding to the edge of the couch, the other one covering his face and shuddering noiselessly at the choking laughter.<br/>
Ian was leaning against the wall, laughing hysterically, not so much from the news about the hamster as from Curt's funny whining and wailing, choking on laughter and wiping away tears. While he was calming, he decided to clarify how it had happened.</p><p>- I didn't even know they could cram so much into themselves. And, moreover, I didn't know that these little creatures mustn't eat cabbage, and he, apparently, overeaten it – well, he really burst! -  Manny made an imaginary explosion with his hands.</p><p>-A bad life leads to a bad death, - Curt said philosophically, catching his breath and rubbing his cheekbones.</p><p>- The ocean consisting of drops is so great, the continent is composed of dust and sand, your coming and going are irrelevant, just a fly flew in the window for a moment...,(2) - Roland with a dreamy look thoughtfully quoted the Eastern sage.</p><p>- Fuck, you flew again to relatives on Alpha-Centauri? I don't understand your alien language, - Manny grumbled. – I feel sorry for the little beast, but they sneer.<br/>
- Died a heroic death, - stop laughing with a smile stating a fact Ian. – Well if that's the case, of course, we have to remember the hamster! - He pulled a bottle of whiskey from the back of his locker, safely hidden for a rainy day.<br/>
- Oh, whiskey!  - Roland said, trying unsuccessfully to get the bottle for himself. – Why didn't you tell us about the stash?<br/>
- Because you, Messrs -alcoholics, you would drunk it in the first  half an hour  after this knowledge, - Ian not hurried give whisky in Roland's grabbing hands, raising the bottle held higher. - So that, friends, are seeing our hero in the latest path, -making mournful expression of faces, Ian poured fire content on hastily found glasses.</p><p> </p><p>- Indeed, whatever, fuck them with these faggots, - drunkenly drawling words, finally decided to Ian, when the content of in bottle as a diminished. – They'll never match us, do they, dudes?<br/>
- They won't be able to keep up with us any time soon, - Curt said, slapping his hand against Ian's. - That's just finish to drink and start working, - he continued, sitting with Roland's head on his hip. Roland's slender legs resting on the arm of the couch, and he looked at Curt with amorous eyes and chuckled drunkenly.</p><p>- I'm sorry, bro, for hitting you then, - Curt said guiltily, looking at Ian under his brows with a slightly knitted brow.<br/>
- Ohh, never mind, bro, forget it, - reaching out to Curt, Ian firmly shook the hand.</p><p>-I don't want to work today! -  Roland suddenly interjected. Three pairs of eyes stared at him in astonishment. For Roland to refuse to work ... It will probably snow today – for the first time in Bath's history-in September. </p><p>- Why aren't we willing to work? -  Manny asked Roland sarcastically, pretending to have a Jewish accent.<br/>
- Today is an important day for me! -  Roland said solemnly. - I fell in love!</p><p>Curt's whisky went through his nose, which made him jump, hitting Roland hard on the forehead with his elbow.<br/>
- Why are you fighting? - He asked, sitting down on the couch.</p><p>Now Ian and Manny looked from Roland to Curt with suspicious interest, exchanging glances with each other.<br/>
- Roland means that he was getting colossal exci...inspiration today, and he almost wrote a new song, - he tried to justify this reckless phrase of Roland's on the verge of a foul, hoping that his friends wouldn't understand what he was talking about. Roland nodded obediently in agreement with Curt. He realized, looking at Ian's extremely suspicious gaze, that sometimes it's better to keep your mouth shut.</p><p>- I'm telling that you are aliens, I don't understand a damn thing, - Manny said.<br/>
- Yeah, aliens, heh heh, small blue men, -  Ian muttered under his breath, raising one eyebrow, shaking his head, which made Curt's cheeks turn red, and he hurried to avert his eyes, remembering again how he had stupidly attacked his friend for essentially telling the truth.</p><p>- Uh, can we go somewhere?  I heard that the Manchester-Tottenham match will be broadcast in that pub in the centre near the bridge today. I would like to see how the Red Devils with Big Ron will tear everyone apart, (3) - Curt tried to change the dangerous theme to a more neutral one.<br/>
- I don't mind, come on, - Manny said, and the others had no choice but to agree.</p><p>Once outside and somehow managed to hitch a ride, since the occasional passing cabs frankly avoided the tipsy company, the guys were able to finally get to the right place and noisily stumbled inside.<br/>
Pumping up beer, the company was actively and emotionally discussing a rather spectacular game of Manchester United, leading with the score 1:0, when suddenly, at the end of the second half, something went wrong, and the goalkeeper of the mancunians managed to miss two offensive goals from the opponent's corner feed due to the stupidest rash actions of his defence. </p><p>- What the hell! - Curt slapped his hands on the bar. – No, how is it possible?! -  He gestured at the small TV screen, then slapped his hand Roland seating near him.<br/>
- What's that got to do with me?  It wasn't me who got the ball between legs twice, it was that ram, - he waved a hand at the TV.<br/>
- Don't worry, Curt, they lost to the last FA Cup winner, not some suckers. This is a worthy defeat , - Ian reassured him. Curt nodded, taking a sip of his beer.</p><p>- OK, you guys, we shall go at homes, and that our wives will eat us with giblets, - apologized Ian and gets say goodbye to Curt and Roland, pushing drunk in a dive Manny to exits. On the street, they said goodbye to each other for a while, drunkenly embracing each other and alternately expressing their respect for each other, until finally they parted in different directions.</p><p>- Curt, I think we should go, too, - Roland suggested to his friend, - it's getting dark, and I think we've had enough for today, - he said, thoughtfully pushing his beer mug away from him and paying the bill.<br/>
- Yeaaah, let's go, - Curt agreed suddenly, almost falling off his chair, and they staggered toward the exit. </p><p>After they clumsily collided in the doorway, Curt had a fit of English politeness:<br/>
- Only after you, sir, - he said gallantly.<br/>
- No, not at all. Only after you, sir, - Roland said in a low voice.<br/>
- Oh, it's an honour, but I really can't. Only after you, - Curt persisted.<br/>
-  Yeah let fucking moving already! - Roland said, pushing him forward and giving Curt's ass a good kick that made him flying out of the pub, standing on his feet only because Roland immediately arrived and grabbed his friend's elbow.</p><p>- Well, you're so drunk, little pig, - Roland chided Curt affectionately, looking lovingly at his drunken, ruddy, smiling face.<br/>
- I'm absolutely sober, - Curt tried to assure him, but then he tripped over a rock as Roland laughed.<br/>
- I think we should sit somewhere, - Roland suggested reasonably, looking around for a bench. But Curt, ignoring all decency, sat down right on the lawn, next to the quay at Pulteney bridge. </p><p>- Why don’t you sit on the bench? You'll freeze your ass off.<br/>
- Nah, it's soft here, I like it. - Curt didn't want to change his position, and Roland, knowing that it was useless to argue with a drunk Curt, sat down meekly next to him.</p><p>- Look what I've got, - Curt whispered conspiratorially, taking a bottle of liquor from the inside pocket of his jacket.<br/>
- Did you steal it from the pub?!  -  Roland was amazed.<br/>
- Yeah, - Curt said proudly, holding out his trophy to Roland with a satisfied expression on his face.<br/>
- Your kleptomania will put you in jail, - Roland laughed, sipping from the bottle.<br/>
- No.  I have you to save my soul from internal damnation, - Curt smiled slyly, half-turning to look at Roland.<br/>
- While I'm saving you, the depths of your demonic soul will drag me down completely, and soon we'll both have to be saved, - Roland answered him quietly.</p><p> Curt leaned back and lay down on his back on the ground, covered with hard autumn grass and withered but soft leaves, his hands under his head.

- Roland, look at the sky, how fucking beautiful the stars today!<br/>
- You're a romantic, holy shit. -  In the same tone like a scumbag replied Roland, he repeated Curt's action, and now they both lied on the lawn, silently staring into the endless dark sky for a while.</p><p>- Ro, you know, I've been thinking for a long time about.. about all of it.... And…<br/>
- And what?<br/>
- I haven't made up of anything.. I couldn't understand nature, you know? - Curt was completely drunk, but he was still embarrassed to call a spade a spade.<br/>
- I thought too. And I realized one thing - that we don't need to think. You just have to feel it, Curt. - He looked at his friend's handsome profile with certain sadness in his eyes. – It doesn't happen all of a sudden. I suppose everything come from there, from childhood. </p><p>Curt stared at him blankly. </p><p>- I think it's the noosphere, - Roland said, looking dreamily at the bright, twinkling stars overhead, forming a vast, infinite universe. - This substance decided everything when we first met, when you struck my imagination with your turban and got inside my heart, - Roland laughed, patting Curt's curly, unruly fringe. Curt smiled back, suddenly remembering his own erotic memory of Roland, feeling a sweet ache in the lower abdomen and mentally agreed with his friend that everything probably originated back then, in their young years.</p><p>- It's just that we were children and did not realize that something might be wrong, we did not understand these feelings at the time. And maybe it's for the best – who knows what mistakes we might have made then because of our inexperience and stupidity.<br/>
- Yeah, - Curt said, - but I just realized that I made a big mistake when I lied down. -  He sat up, staring intently at one point, trying to concentrate, because the world was whizzing around his mind like mad helicopters.<br/>
- Don't you dare ruin this beautiful lawn! - Looking around and joking ordered him Roland.<br/>
- I never vomit! - Curt answers firmly, and Roland laughed out loud.</p><p>- Uh, where are you going? Although, that's a big word, – Roland watched following Curt who was crawling on all fours, because go on their two have him clearly not worked.<br/>
- If I don't get home now, Lynne won't give me a chance to survive, - Curt said mournfully.<br/>
- If you get caught by the police like this and she have to get you out of the police station drunk and all, then you won't exactly stand a chance. -  Roland said sensibly, rising from his seat and helping his friend to his own. </p><p>They went to the first nearest bench on the quay, and as soon as they were seated, Curt passed out, muttering something like "Thank you." Roland carefully buttoned his friend's jacket, brushing the leaves off it, and settled down next to him, fighting the urge to hug Curt tighter, glancing warily at the noisy group of punks nearby. Thinking about such an unusual day, he relived the memory of his first meeting with Curt.</p><p> </p><p>***<br/>
2 Omar Khayyam (translated by the author of fic)<br/>
3 Red Devils – nickname of Manchester United players; Big Ron - nickname of the Manchester United coach who coached the team from 1981-1986.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. One little boy, one little man...Funny how time flies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>- How long do we have to wait? What's the problem - why isn't he coming out? - Roland asked the friend who had brought him to this house. Here, according to his stories, lived the same mysterious boy, with whom Roland for some reason should meet, because he was also fond of music, and they should have a lot of common interests. </p><p>- He's under house arrest for this morning's brawl - he almost killed that idiot Ron. Well, his mother punished him. Soon she'll be off to work the evening shift, and he'll be able to come out to us. </p><p>Roland was greatly embarrassed by this guy's reputation as an aggressive petty thief, a bully, and a slacker. Who will he see in these doors now – maybe will it be a huge guy with giant fists, who will beat him at any time convenient for him? Why doesn't him to turn around to hell and leave before it's too late?<br/>
When they heard the front door open, they saw a tired woman coming out of the house, who said something sternly to the residents of the house before leaving. After she went out of sight, the friends went to the door of the house and knocked on the door with a conditional signal. The door opened almost immediately.</p><p> - What the hell you have come so fast? My mother has just left, and she may come back if she has forgotten something, - Roland heard a partly irritated but pleasant young voice. It didn't sound like it belonged to a thirteen-year-old boy - it sounded so...adult.</p><p>- Who the hell is this? -  the young man clearly turned his attention to Roland, who was standing half-turned toward the door, and for some reason was afraid to turn and look up at the owner of this melodious voice. But it was not polite to stand like this for long, so Roland finally gathered his courage and faced the boy, virtually speechless, barely able to pronounce his own name. In front of him stood a not tall boy, about the same height as him, but strong enough, with a pleasant olive complexion from the summer sun. On his dark head was a strange-looking Indian turban, from under which peeked short, slightly curled strands of unruly bangs. No big guy – just an ordinary, good-looking kid. The young guy, noticing Roland's surprised look on his headdress, hastily removed it from his head. A little defiantly head up and glancing at Roland with his brown eyes, the color of dark amber in the bright setting sun, the guy confidently held out his hand to Roland.</p><p>- Curt, - he said. Shortly, rudely and abruptly, perfectly in accordance with his name, without any extra words. Just Curt, that's all.</p><p>- Roland, - he repeated his name a little louder and more confidently as he shook hands with his new acquaintance. </p><p>- A Frenchman? -  Curt reasked.</p><p>- What do you mean?</p><p>- Emm, are you from France? How is it...like, an exchange? You have a strange pronunciation, - he explained.</p><p>- No, I was born in England, but my father is really French. He made me speak French sometimes. </p><p>- I see, - Curt rapped out, seeming to lose interest in the strange, a little surly guy and switch to their mutual friend, tossing the turban into the house and closing the door.</p><p>- We need to get out of here somewhere before I'm spotted that I'm out of the house.</p><p>The boys went to a small deserted Park and sat down in the shade of a large spreading tree. Curt took a cigarette from his jeans pocket and lit one importantly. </p><p>- Do you smoke? -  Roland asked, genuinely surprised, remembering that voice again, not believing that its owner could be seriously addicted to this pernicious habit.</p><p> -Yes, why? -  Curt looked at Roland again with that piercing, impudent look that made him seriously uneasy. But not from fright or fear. There was something different about this challenge, this overly feigned aggression. Those sad eyes with their dark, thick lashes were not really cruel. Roland didn't know what was wrong yet, stealing silent glances at Curt as he enthusiastically told another kid who came up to him about how he had polished the face of one of those assholes today. Roland, studying the young guy's features, would never have thought that Curt could be a bully. Only an abrasion on his split lip, a small bruise on his cheekbone, and wounded knuckles on his hands that were the spoils of battle in the streets betrayed his violent temper. In general, he had a rather intelligent appearance. What makes him so defiantly bold? Suddenly, noticing that sharp look again, Roland seemed to wake up from Curt's uncomfortable, suspicious tone:</p><p>- What the fuck are you looking at me that way? </p><p>Roland hesitated for a few:<br/>
- I'm...no, I just ... I thought, what the fuck are you wearing that turban? Are you an Indian? - finally found something to say Roland.</p><p>This Roland's sincere "what the fuck" melted the boy's heart, and he laughed merrily and perky, which made Roland smile back at him, softening the sullenness of his features. </p><p>-Well, no... I just... It's stupid, you know, - Curt scratched his head in embarrassment, but seeing Roland's interested look, he continued. – I just wanted to look like that actor in an Indian movie. I don't know his name, but he sings great! - the young guy's gaze had gone from prickly and wary to warm and friendly, and now his eyes glowed a soft honey color.</p><p>- Do you sing? - Roland asked, breathing a sigh of relief, because at last he could talk about things he understood, not about someone who had beaten someone or stolen something from someone.</p><p>- Well, a little...Nothing serious...I'm embarrassed, you know, - Curt spread his hands. – I've never really done it, but the guys once heard and said that I should meet a guy who is interested in music and writes songs, but for some reason he does not want to sing them... I generally did not take it seriously then... so, is it you? That guy... - Curt finally realized, and Roland nodded in agreement.</p><p>- I'm not a professional at all, you know? - he excused himself, simultaneously studying the unusual, exotic features of the new acquaintance, who sat opposite, tilted his head and slightly narrowed his dark, greenish eyes with a brightly pronounced sadness. Strange appearance, but Curt somehow knew that he was suddenly becoming attracted to this strange, so correct boy. So he immediately accepted the invitation to go to Roland's house to listen to some of his records without hesitation. </p><p>How could Roland have missed the moment when that wild, laughing teenager had suddenly turned into a creature so perfect in its mature beauty, who's breathing drunken vapors down his neck now.</p><p>Suddenly, the scuffling beside him brought Roland out of the state of pleasant thoughts and sweet memories. </p><p>- Oh, you're awake, a drunkard? -  Roland asked Curt, sarcastically, but at the same time affectionately.</p><p>- Yeah, sort of, - Curt said hoarsely, clearing his throat, rubbing his face with his hand. - Fuck, I'm thirsty. </p><p> - The river is near, - Roland pointed to the river cascade in front of them, laughing at his friend's disapproving look. – All I have is the liquor you stole, and nothing else, - he said gravely. </p><p> - Oh, no, fuck it, - Curt said, grimacing in disgust, squeezing his temples with his fingers. - My fucking head hurts so much. </p><p>- Can you walk, weirdo? -  Roland got up from the bench going to go home. He didn't really care about Caroline, but Lynne could give Curt a good thrashing for getting drunk and returning late without warning. </p><p> - Yes, I'm fine, let's go, - Curt got up from the bench followed by Roland and trudged after him.</p><p>The guys slowly wandered through the dark corners of Bath, so as not to get caught occasionally plying the streets of the city by law enforcement officers. Curt was still a little heady but in any case, he felt much better, although his thoughts were still a little hazy. Suddenly, in one of the particularly dark, narrow lane, Roland grabbed his arm and yanked him hard to himself. </p><p>- What are you doing? - laughed Curt, losing his balance from the sudden pull and finding himself in Roland's arms.</p><p>Instead of answering, Roland grabbed him by the shoulders and pinned him to the cold stone wall of the building. Even in the near-blackness of the lane, Curt could feel the burning stare of Roland's dark eyes that was melting his own mind.</p><p>- I don't think we finished today, - Roland whispered, his lips almost touching Curt's cheek. He pressed his body against Curt's, enjoying the feel of his friend's hands digging into his back, gathering the cloth of his jacket into folds. Curt, without uttering a word in response, hungrily bit into the fullness of Roland's lips, kissing them with frenzy, exploring every corner of his mouth and exhaling sweet soft moans.</p><p> Roland's lips were sliding of his neck, his hot tongue leaving burning marks on Curt's skin and making the pressure in Curt's jeans all the more palpable and impressive. Instinctively, Curt leaned his lower belly slightly forward, pressing by hands his thighs against his friend's ones, making him shudder and hiss – the tornado of excitement that had raged earlier in Roland's head was now spinning in the area of his swollen cock.</p><p>- Bitch..., - Roland hissed as Curt grinned and bit his lower lip, pulling it back a little. A small drop of blood came out of the weather-beaten lip, and when he felt it, Curt immediately licked it off, continuing to kiss like a pervert, thus leaving no adequate thought in Roland's head.</p><p>- It's fucking up..., - Roland breathed again, his eyes already accustomed to the dark, looking at his friend's depraved face. God, why hadn't he known before that it was so easy to get to the top of the world just by kissing the lips of a childhood friend? Why does it drive him so crazy? No girl had ever made Roland lose his head as much as this young man, whom he had known for a thousand years, and now it turns out that he did not know about him at all.</p><p>Roland grabbed Curt's buttocks so that his fingers were right between them, and pressed a little on that area. Curt gawked at Roland with fucking eyes, pulling away from him a little.</p><p>- Curt, you know what? - a sardonic grin appeared on Roland's face.</p><p>- Roland…, - Curt stared at his friend, clearly feeling his hands on his ass, which were massaging them pleasantly, creating additional friction against Roland's hard groin.</p><p>- Don't worry, I'm joking, - Roland laughed, seeing Curt relax a little after that. – We're gentlemen, I can't fuck you right here in the middle of the street.</p><p>- Bastard! - Curt laughed, moving away from Roland and straightening the stone boner that located uncomfortably in his tight jeans.</p><p>- I don't even know if you're upset or happy now. -  Roland suddenly said in a low voice, grabbing Curt's balls with a hot hand through his jeans and using the other hand to push him into the wall of a building that already knew too much. Roland's fingers had unbuckled Curt's belt, well done with the button on his jeans, and were carefully unzipping his fly now. His hand finally slid into the warm hiding place under Curt's underwear, releasing his hard cock, buzzing with tension, causing Roland to lose his mind from his friend's noisy breathing.</p><p>- Oh, my fucking God, Ro, - Curt half whispered, half moaned, later reassured by Roland's mouth onto his own. Roland's hand moved expertly back and forth over the hard dick, his fingers stroking every vein that appeared on it. Suddenly, Roland slid down to Curt's hips and immediately Curt howled, biting his own fist with his teeth at the unimaginable sensation of hot moisture of Roland's mouth on his throbbing cock. Roland's lips moved over the velvety surface of the penis, squeezing it tightly in a ring of full lips, and his hand jerked the dick for the fullness of sensations. Bright stars and comets swirled under Curt's eyelids, and he breathed fitfully, not knowing what a hell of a Paradise he was in. Suddenly, millions of bright flashes of fireworks exploded in his brain, his legs got soft under him, his hands trying to grope the surface of the building wall for support, making Roland taste the generous portion of the contents of his balls. Curt was trying to catch his breath, calming the body, which continued to shudder in spasms unbearable in its sweetness of orgasm.</p><p>Roland rose to his feet and tenderly kissed the breathless Curt, who wrapped his arms around his neck and returned the kiss with delight. </p><p>- We have to go, - Roland said, resting his forehead on Curt's, stroking his curly hair, which was sweating slightly at the temples in spite of the cool weather.</p><p>- Roland, I don't know what ..., -  Curt tried to express one of the thoughts that had accumulated in his mind, but he couldn't.</p><p>- Don't say anything, - Roland whispered. - I was happy to do it. - He kissed Curt on the neck. - Although it was a bit unusual in taste, - he couldn't help being sarcastic, relieving the overexcited, and now slightly awkward, atmosphere. </p><p>- Let's hope no one saw us, - Curt said with a grin, buttoning his jeans with shaking hands. – Let's go.</p><p>When they reached the right fork in the road, they shook hands like in some absurd movie, trying not to look each other in the eye, and went homes.</p><p>***<br/>
Roland thoughtfully poured the freshly brewed coffee from the coffee pot, thinking about the evening before, glad that Caroline was already asleep and couldn't help noticing or feeling something. He was stirring the fragrant liquid in a cup, looking out of the window, when he noticed a familiar figure sitting slouched on the fence near his house. Hastily pouring a second portion of coffee into another cup, Roland slipped out the door like a silent cat, eager to find out what had happened to his friend.</p><p>- What the hell are you doing here? - Roland asked Curt, handing him a cup. </p><p>- Lynne kicked me out, you know, - Curt said with a sad smile, sipping a nice drink and warming his frozen palms with satisfaction against the warmth of the ceramic. - She said we'd fucked her up and that I could run back to my Roland. So I came to you.</p><p>- Fuck, - Roland said. – Did she say that - "to your Roland"? And why didn't you bang your fist on the table and show who is the boss of the house?</p><p>- You know, if I'd just gotten drunk, I probably would have, - Curt said excusing despite Roland's grin, - but that thing what happened ... between us...you Know, I'm probably too guilty to her to show off.</p><p>- Oh, God, how conscientious we are, - Roland replied with a laugh, but with genuine sympathy for his friend, who was always having some bad luck. In the past, he sometimes had to run away from home on his own, but now he is being kicked out of it.</p><p>- Why didn't you come up to us?</p><p> - To Caroline can kick you out too? - Curt laughed bitterly. – And we had to go to the Studio together and starve to death? - Curt even despite the stupid situation still tried to joke.<br/>
- Trust me, Ian wouldn't let us die, - Roland said thinking.</p><p>- Oh, yeah...Hey, do you think they didn't suspect anything yesterday? - Curt suddenly remembered the unexpected arrival of his colleagues and Ian's ambiguous phrases.</p><p>- I don't know, I don't think so, - Roland said with doubt scratching his chin. – We'll wait and see, - he said, looking at his friend with a twinkle in his eye. – Fucked up, isn't it?</p><p>- Totally fucked up, - Curt agreed, laughing back.</p><p>- Go home and make it up with Lynne – she just got mad, I'm sure, - Roland said, giving Curt a friendly pat on the back.</p><p>- You think so? - Curt looked doubtfully into his friend's kind, wise eyes, and after thinking for a few moments, decided that Roland was right, and after shaking his friend's hand and thanking him for the coffee, went home to try his luck a second time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Desires as opiates</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>- Curt, you don't mind if I steal Lynne from you for today, do you? Just for a few hours, - Caroline asked, asserting rather than asking, as she passed the sandwich to Roland. – I definitely need some moral support while shopping, - she sighed, rolling her eyes.</p><p>- Yeah, sure, no problem, - answered Curt with a smile, gently kissing the bride on the cheek. - Walk as long you needed and can take it slow, - hot wave surged into his face with a quick glance of Roland, which he threw at him in this moment, slightly raising an eyebrow and smiling faintly out of the corner of her lips.</p><p> - Carrie, are you ready? Can we go?  - Lynne asked, kissing Curt and chuckling contentedly at the slight tickle from the playful stroking of her back and sides. Regretfully, she slipped out of the boyfriend's arms as Caroline was waiting for her at the front door. </p><p>- Have a nice walk! -  Roland kissed his wife and closed the door behind them.</p><p>The guys sat alone comfortably in the kitchen of Roland's flat, finishing the delicious tea Caroline had brewed, munching on sandwiches and other goodies from the bakery next to their house.</p><p>- Curt, you are so silent today. - Roland said, his mouth full, -  you'd been so apologizing to Lynne that your tongue can't move anymore?</p><p>- Shut the fuck up! - Curt laughed back, hurling a small decorative pillow at his friend from the couch where he was sitting so comfortably.</p><p>- Oh, I see she's shining like a copper bowl. - Roland continued to tease Curt, deftly dodging the projectile, - you apparently tried hard, and worked off.</p><p>- Yeah, something like that, - Curt said, smiling at Roland's funny face as he chewed an unknown number of sandwiches so hard that his ears moved. – Have you come back from a hungry land? -  He grinned as he sipped his tea.</p><p>- Ohh, dunno, I'm as hungry as a wolf, - Roland replied, now biting into a juicy apple and preparing to pour himself another cup of tea. </p><p>- That's you must have been practiced something with Caroline, - Curt suggested quietly. - Is that why you're so hungry? - He put down his cup and looked at Roland with a strange tilt of his head. – Although, according to all the canons, you should be absolutely full…</p><p>Roland flinched at the mesmerizing tone of Curt's voice, which enveloped his ears like a velvet cloth, and spilled some of the tea on the table. Hastily wiping the liquid from the table and pulling himself together, he turned to Curt again, trying to slowly sip the pleasant drink without betraying his confusion, and began to watch his friend in complete pleasant silence, concentrating on the measured step of the hands of the big clock.</p><p>Curt was sitting on the couch in his favorite position – an ankle of one leg crossed over the hip of other one, his head was propped on his right hand with his elbow on the arm of the couch. And his other hand was lying on THAT spot. Yes, fuck, what to say, Curt's hand completely invitingly was lying the palm right on his cock. Roland coughed a little, choking a little on his tea, cursing himself for the too bright pictures he had already begun to draw in his imagination, and continued to stare at the pensive figure of his friend quite frankly.<br/>
Curt seemed to be mocking him by wearing all black today: these black corduroy trousers hugged his friend's strong athletic thighs too provocatively, and the thin black shirt made it possible to trace all the muscles of his toned chest and well-defined biceps. Suddenly, Curt's hand moved in the groin area, quite unceremoniously making the movement known to all men at the obvious inconvenience in their underwear. At the same moment, he stared at Roland in the same way that he had when they first met, looking him squarely in the eye, daring and defiant.<br/>
Holy shit! Fucking bitch…</p><p>Roland set the cup down on the table with a clink, ignoring the spilled tea. He strode over to the couch, his heart pounding as he watched Curt instinctively change his position in the blink of an eye, half-reclining on the couch, propping himself up on his elbows, his whole body as if welcoming Roland.</p><p>Roland, almost without breathing, hovered over his friend, placing his knee in his crotch, and barely passed the palm of his hand on the thigh of Curt's bent leg, noting with satisfaction the pleasant feel of the cloth of his trousers and the firmness of the male thigh. With a quick, precise glance at the bulge under Curt's fly, feeling the blood begin to pulse in his veins, Roland exhaled with a whistling sound:</p><p>- Fucking Curt Smith...I feel like a fourteen-year-old who's ready to cum in his trousers just from looking at this and thinking about... - Roland gasped when Curt, during his heartbreaking monologue, moved slightly forward on the couch now resting his crotch on Roland's hip, and grabbing him by the neck, pulled his face to his lips.</p><p>Roland kissed Curt's lips fiercely, their tongues moving in unison, playing a passionate game with each other, almost ignoring their lips in their fun. Curt's mind raced with the mind-boggling depravity of that kiss, wishing that Lynne had never kissed him like this, always feeling shy and bothered about anything. There was something absolutely honest and right in this frank, lascivious and slightly dirty kiss, something that his confused soul and body yearning for unbridled passion had been searching for so long. Roland's lips were hotly exploring every part of his neck, forcing Curt to arch harder, reducing the distance between their bodies to a minimum. Roland made a strange guttural sound as Curt's hand slid under his shirt and forcefully traced a line along his back. Roland raised himself on his knees, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing the irritating garment to the floor. Pulling the shirt off Curt's torso, he immediately hurried to leave an electrified trace of his tongue, starting from the belt on Curt's trousers and ending on the guy's chest. Roland's tongue swirled deftly around berries of his nipples, creating the necessary tension. Curt's hands dug into his friend's curly hair, not wanting him to stop there.<br/>
But with a sudden change of heart, Curt abruptly stood up on the couch and pulled Roland's thighs toward him, despite the puzzled look on his face. Roland rolled over on his back on the other side of the couch finally accepting his friend's offer with delight as Curt's tongue ran a tangled line across his belly. Roland stretched out on the surface of the couch and put his hands behind his head. Curt pulled the belt of Roland's trousers down a little, ran his tongue along the belt on the bottom of his belly, and then, sprawling his tongue, climbed up his torso to the dimple in his neck, gently kissing it and at the same time stroking the hard crotch of his friend, listening to his ragged breathing with delight. Roland wrapped his arms around Curt, pressing his naked body against his own, pressing his groin into the same hard area at the bottom of his friend's belly, and again, with a moan, biting into his lips. Curt tore away from Roland's lips, looked into Roland's eyes with a misty gaze, and began to gradually descend down Roland's body, accompanied by small light kisses. When he reached the right place, Curt nearly drove Roland crazy, biting his hard cock right through the cloth of his trousers, causing him to jerk his hips in his direction from the hot breath. Curt yanked the belt free, carefully unzipped his fly, and pulled Roland's hot, oozing cock out. With the satisfaction of the pervert admiring the boner he created, Curt slid to the hips, Roland and licked the underside of his cock, from balls to tip, making several rotational movement of the tip of his tongue around it and taking a drop of pre-ejaculate from the hole in the middle, forcing Roland to issue a growling sound, along with an animal growl. Realizing the inconvenience of Roland's trousers and underwear, Curt unceremoniously pulled them down to his knees, giving himself a free field of activity. Having mounted his hot mouth on Roland's almaz-hard cock, he began confident, but moderately strong and fast movements with his lips, squeezing them into a tight ring around the penis, caressing Roland's balls with his hand. Feeling the faintest twitch of his penis and the quickening of his friend's breath, he sadistically paused, sinking lower to the crotch and taking each of Roland's balls in turn with his lips, as gently and insistently as if he wanted somebody to do the same to him. After that, with a flat, wet tongue, he again ran from the crotch to the tip of Roland's cock, going crazy with delight, wrapping his palm around the leaning forward dick of Roland, which required more specific actions.</p><p>Curt did not have to be coaxed too long – enjoying the eyes closed with pleasure and such red swollen lips of Roland, the droplets of light perspiration that appeared on these refined and elegant collarbones and at the same time jerking off Roland's cock with his hand, he again lowered his mouth on it, moving at a much more intense pace, helping himself to his labors with his tongue. Coming off his lips from the tip of a friend's penis with a bawdy ringing sound and jerked off the dick a couple of times, Curt forced Roland's dick to pour out long streams of sperm on his belly, almost going mad from the momentary cry of a friend who bit his own finger and now panting and slightly twitching his naked hips with a still hard polished dick. Through a hazy haze in his head, Curt unbuttoned his own trousers, took out his aching cock, and began stroking it, closing his eyes against the unspeakable brightness of the sensations of an overexcited body. The switch that clicked in his head gave him the idea to move closer to Roland's face, run the head of his cock over his plump, juicy, half-open lips, and eventually direct his cock straight into Roland's mouth, which responded by sucking his cock in with his lips. A few precise long movements of the mouth on the overstrained hardness of Curt brought his throbbing penis a welcome relief, sprinkling drops of milk-white color on the lips and face of his friend.</p><p>- Fuuuuck, it's cool as fuck, - Curt breathed in a trembling voice, leaning his hands on the armrest on either side of Roland's head, flying off into the unknown space of macrocosm at the sight of his friend's tongue licking droplets of his sperm from his lips. </p><p>Suddenly, over the roar of his blood in his head, Roland could hear the distant sounds of women's voices and ringing laughter somewhere outside the flat door.</p><p>- Fuck! Girls! - Roland shouted, pushing Curt away from him, his eyes wide. Curt's unruly hands convulsively tried to tuck the treacherously unyielding penis into his trousers, buttoning them and putting on his shirt so quickly that the best soldiers of the Royal Guard would have envied him. At the same time, Roland, rolling off the couch, trying to pull on his trousers and simultaneously grabbing his shirt, finally got tangled in the trousers and, freaking out in the end and pulling them off completely, with his bare ass rushed to the bathroom, under the hysterical silent laughter of Curt. He dreaded what might have happened if he hadn't heard the noise outside the door, and was glad that he had forgotten to oil the door lock, which was now jammed again, giving them a head start.</p><p>Finally, the front door opened, and a graceful whirlwind named Caroline flew into the flat, chattering to Lynne along the way.</p><p> - I forgot my wallet at home, you know, - she explained to Curt about their sudden return. -Haven't you guys been bored here?</p><p>- Oh, no, it's all right, - Curt said in a strangled voice, trying not to laugh, remembering the confused, naked-assed Roland and being struck by the absurdity of this phrase after what had happened just five minutes ago.</p><p>- Where's Roland? - she asked, unwrapping a sweet from a bowl on the kitchen table.</p><p>- He, perhaps, is changing clothes, - Curt waved hand in side rooms, - we decided go for a walk too, and discuss some issues, - he tried to speak maximally convincingly and plausibly, fiercely hoping, that hateful blush on his cheeks already has disappeared and out of the corner of his eyes checking his trousers on the absence of any suspicious traces on black velvety cloth. </p><p>- Curt, are you okay? Are you feeling all right?  - Lynne suddenly added fuel to the fire by sitting down next to him and checking his forehead, making Curt mentally roll his eyes and pray that the girls would just disappear and stop asking all these awkward questions.</p><p> – You're so hot, you must have a cold.  You should go home, not for a walk! –  she asked worriedly, looking into her boyfriend's sparkling but not-so-sick eyes.</p><p>Curt held back with the last of his strength all the stupid laughter that had accumulated in him during this time. He knew that the situation itself was far from being a joke, but he couldn't help being glad that Roland wasn't here, or he would have burst out laughing and he had to explain it.</p><p>- Lynne, honey, believe me, I feel great, absolutely no reason to worry, - Curt really wasn't lying, he hadn't felt better in a long time, but the flow of these insanely ridiculous questions and the whole idiotic situation was driving him crazy.</p><p>Breathing out a sigh of relief and closing the door behind the girls, Curt called out to Roland, laughing at his disheveled appearance with still wet curly hair sticking out in different directions and at his frightened look. After reassuring him that the girls did not suspect anything, he persuaded Roland to go for a walk, because it was now unbearable for him to be within the walls of his home.</p><p>***</p><p>- Ro, do you have any idea what kind of fire we were playing with today? - Curt was wondering as he walked a little ahead of Roland along the bank of a small tributary of the river.</p><p>- To be honest, I'm probably still in shock, - Roland laughed. – You just turned off all my fucking brains and turned me into a mass of that hypersexual teenager. – Oh, if I'd known then that all my problems could be solved simply by turning to my best friend for help – I wouldn't have had to find all those adventures on my ass.</p><p>- That's you're looking for an adventure on an ass now, but back then it was much more banal, - Curt retorted with a grin, to Roland's oddly sinister chuckle.</p><p>- But you didn't say on whose one, - Roland said, bumping into Curt, who had stopped abruptly. - Stop running away from me and just look me in my eye, - Roland said, turning Curt around and taking his face by the chin, forcing him to look directly into his eyes. </p><p>- Are you're out of your mind? Somebody can see us, - Curt said, looking around in alarm.</p><p>- There's no one here, - Roland walked a little forward and stood in the middle of a small bridge, leaning on the railing and looking thoughtfully at the surface of the water with its slowly floating colorful bright leaves.</p><p>Curt stood silently beside him, not knowing what to say, locked his hands together the railing and looking down.</p><p>- Do you regret it? - Roland asked him directly.</p><p>- No, - Curt said quickly, -  it's just so... I don't know…</p><p>- Wrongly?</p><p>- Yes, it is wrong. Abnormally. But the strangest thing about it’s you know what? -  Curt looked into Roland's eyes.</p><p>- What's it?</p><p>- That in spite of all this wildness, it's all ... so ... honestly…</p><p>- Honestly?</p><p>- Yes, honestly and ... naturally. I've never been seriously high, but I think the state I was in today was akin to this – I just gave myself up to this feeling, because I completely trusted you and knew that I was doing everything right, - Curt was absolutely honest about sharing his feelings with his best friend, who, by a strange coincidence, now probably was to some extent, his lover. – And you, what did you feel?</p><p>- The same, - Roland agreed with his friend, smiling affectionately at him.</p><p>- Ohh, this is so great! But…</p><p>- What?</p><p>- I'm afraid…</p><p>- What are you afraid? - Roland was puzzled after such an honest monologue. - I don't think there's anything to be afraid of after the way you sucked me today, - he laughed.</p><p>- Shut the fuck up, Roland, low down your voice, you're not on stage, - Curt said, laughing, -  do you want half of Bath to know about this? No, that's not what I'm afraid of. I don't want this to ever... come between us and threaten our friendship.</p><p>- What makes you think that will happen? - Roland asked, though he knew exactly what Curt was getting at and what he meant.</p><p>- I don't think it will, but...usually it always has consequences, and I don't want to lose you one day! - He said the phrase with feeling, looking at his friend.</p><p>- My God, I'm not going anywhere, - Roland said, fighting the urge to hug his friend right now and kiss him all over so that he would stop talking nonsense and just be there in his arms. Such a warm, native, cozy Curt, the closest thing to him in the whole world, which has now become even closer a million times. But suddenly appeared two pairs of pensioners strolling sedately along the embankment did not allow him to show his feelings, so Roland decided only to touch his hand to Curt's arm. </p><p>- I'll be the happiest man on earth if that's true, - Curt said, looking at Roland with a certain note of sadness, and then squinting at the bright sun, he looked off into the distance, as if trying to see their future there, beyond the ghostly horizon.</p><p>*****</p><p>Why is Roland on this terrible plane? He's scared to death of these "iron birds", so why does Curt see his face behind the porthole? What's happening? He saw Roland press his hands against the window, trying to see something. Finally, their eyes met, and Curt rushed to the plane, not understanding how he could get inside – there was no stairway, the plane's doors were already locked, and the plane was preparing to go to the acceleration. The plane began to move slowly, and Curt realized with horror that he would not be able to catch up with it, that Roland would fly away in it, no one knew where, and no one knew why. Roland rapped his hands against the glass of the porthole, but it was impossible to break the solid glass. He darted around the cabin, but it was impossible to get out. Curt ran as fast as he could, but for some reason his legs felt like cotton wool, as if he were standing in one place while the plane picked up speed. Curt saw Roland's fear-stricken face in the porthole again, and called out his name as loudly as he could: "Roland, Ro! Where are you going?! Ro!"<br/>
But the plane had already lifted off the ground and started to pick up speed, surreally changing shapes, leading Curt to a state of sinister horror. "Roland!", he whispered, unable to scream any more, the pain in his solar plexus making it impossible for him to do so, his eyes burning with tears. He did not understand anything, he was completely at a loss, like a tiny kitten left completely alone in the middle of a huge world. He looked up again, hoping that it was all a joke, that he had imagined it, and there was no plane taking his Roland into the unknown, but unfortunately, the plane was still floating on the surface of the sky.<br/>
Suddenly the sky lit up with a bright flash where the plane was flying, and a moment later Curt was thrown back by the blast wave and deafened by the terrible sound of the explosion. "Roland!!!!! NOOO!!!! ROLAAND!!!!": Curt was screaming hysterically. He ran, ran forward, not knowing why, eventually stopping and falling to his knees. "Roland, how come..., Ro...": he whispered as he fell flat on the ground, his strength completely gone, tears streaming from his wide-open eyes, and his body aching as if it had been tormented by a thousand lashes. Suddenly Curt heard an airport employee come up to him and start calling his name, crouching down next to him and shaking him by the shoulder. Curt was barely whispering his friend's name, totally shocked by what had happened, completely ignoring attempts to bring him to his senses. But for some reason the voice began to change, gradually becoming higher and more familiar, and finally Curt came out of this crazy nightmare, realizing that Lynne was desperately trying to wake him. </p><p>- Curt, wake up, what's wrong? - She said worried. - My God, what did you dream? You screamed in your sleep so…</p><p>- I... I don't remember, - Curt tried to say, realizing that his pillow was completely wet with tears and glad that it was just a dream. Too realistic in its horror, too terrifying, mad, and nightmarish. God, he couldn't even imagine what it would have been like if he had actually lost Roland, if he had suddenly died...</p><p>- Did you call out to Roland in your dream? - Lynne looked sympathetically into her boyfriend's face, stroking his head.</p><p>- I had a nightmare...that Roland... - Curt couldn't say the word out loud. - That he's gone. Forever. </p><p>- My God, did it upset you that much? -  Lynne wondered why the simple departure of a friend could hurt Curt so much; she sensed that he was hiding something, as always, not understanding all the subtleties of their relationship. </p><p>- Yes, - he said. - I'm sorry if I startled you. It's just a dream, all emotions are heightened, you know, - Curt tried to smile, calming the bride, even though the huge Wildcats were clawing at his soul. </p><p>But Lynne didn't understand. She didn't have such vivid dreams, she didn't understand all the dark psychology that Curt and Roland were so involved in, and she was irritated by this too strong connection between her fiance and his best friend. Jealousy of an unknown nature - strange, heavy, restless - pressed on her soul, arising in her heart, scratching it with its sharp thorns. With a heavy sigh, she slid back under the covers, settling comfortably in Curt's arms, which, for some reason, did not warm her.<br/>
Slipping out of the grip of his taut muscles, she turned away and began to cry noiselessly, even more upset that Curt hadn't put his arms around her, but had also turned away with a sigh.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. This ain't my idea of fun!  Oh u boys...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>-Ugh, cool party, we should get out together more often! - Curt was in high spirits. He and Roland had just returned from a student party that they had infiltrated as friends of a college student's musicians.</p><p>- Yes, it was really great. That idiot Ben is so drunk, he's such a jerk. And the girl he molested has a heavy hand, - Roland agreed with a laugh, plopping down on his bed. He was glad that his mother and Julian had gone out for a visit, and probably wouldn't be back soon, and that Carlos, his older brother, had gone out with his girlfriend.</p><p>There was no one in the house but the two of them, and no one could smell that Roland was a little drunk – a few glasses of beer and an unaccustomed fifteen-year-old Roland's organism was slapped happy. He was even more glad that Curt could be in his house at such a late hour, since Roland's mother was not at home, and his own mother was working the night shift. The brothers, knowing that Curt could only be with Roland at this time, were not particularly concerned about his absence from home. In addition, Curt also needed to sober up a little, so as not to get slapped by Shaun for drinking alcohol at such an early age.<br/>
Curt, sitting comfortably on Roland's bed opposite him, carefully picked up his guitar and began to play thoughtfully some nonsense, just fingering the strings and combining different chords. Roland stared at his best friend with slightly intoxicated eyes, feeling his heart sink with an inexplicable and indescribable feeling of love and affection for this young, pretty guy. It was a little strange to see him deftly plucking the strings of an acoustic guitar instead of the usual more brutal bass in his hands. Roland felt that it was difficult to cope with the feeling of affection for his talented companion, and he did not find anything smarter than to suddenly lean across the bed and give Curt a hearty kiss on the cheek. Curt flinched at Roland's sudden impulse so the kiss landed on the corner of his mouth, which made Curt terribly confused and completely speechless, clutching the guitar neck with one hand and automatically muffling its strings with the other. </p><p>- What the fuck are you doing, is it from the booze? - after a few moments, Curt pulled himself together and stared at Roland, but there was a carefully suppressed smile on his face.</p><p>- I couldn't help it, you're too talented. You won over everyone at that party today with your fabulous bass playing, considering you're self-taught. - Roland was smiling the sweetest, most guileless smile in his arsenal. - I just couldn't find the words to express it, so I just decided to do it this way. You know, we should probably practice this more often – it will replace me with dozens of extra words, - Roland looked warmly at his best friend with a kind smile in his mischievous eyes, relaxing on the bed and hugging one of his pillows with a silly floral print. He did not notice, nor did he try to notice, Curt's embarrassment at such an unusual and unaccustomed expression of feeling. Roland had never kissed him before. Yes, it was just a friendly gesture, but for some reason Curt's skin prickled and the hair on his arms stood on end. He had to pull down the sleeves of his jumper so it wouldn't be too obvious.    </p><p> - God, Roland, you're not supposed to drink, you're scaring me, - Curt managed to say with a laugh.</p><p>– Come on, this is just an expression of my friendly appreciation for your talent – you play well, and what about your voice - I'm in silence, because it's just amazing, - Roland again took a completely unperturbed look, quite seriously continuing the conversation.</p><p> - Oh, come on, Ro, I'm not very good in it, - Curt said, confused again, because he couldn't get used to the fact that Roland was getting madly inspired at the sound of his singing, while Curt didn't know what he was hearing in it.</p><p>- Curt, your lack of confidence is blasphemous, - Roland continued. - You know, I'm grateful to the Universe for bringing me to your Holy doorstep and letting me hear your fucking amazing voice, - Roland's drunken tongue continued. – You are the closest person to me in all this world! - Roland finally summed it up, practically jumping up in his seat with emotion, looking into his friend's slightly narrowed, smiling brown eyes.</p><p> </p><p>- Curt? -  Roland said suddenly, in a rather sharply, but in quiet, low voice, after a while.</p><p>- What?</p><p>- I actually wanted to talk to you about something, - Roland's tone became even quieter, - because I can only talk to you about it.  Roland was circling around, not daring to ask the question that bothered him.</p><p> - What is it? - Curt knew that the subject was probably a sensitive one, and this piqued his curiosity and at the same time confused him. He tried to concentrate on playing the guitar, pretending an absolute tranquility, although he could feel the catch in this mysterious tone of his friend's voice.</p><p>- Well...I have a problem, - Roland began, still hesitating to get to the point.</p><p>- My God, what is it already?  Failed physics? - Curt was unnerved by his friend's mysterious behavior.</p><p>- No, if it would be so. - Roland looked at Curt with unhappy eyes and sighed. - It's...it's a hard-on, - he said at last, making Curt look up sharply. He stared at his friend, trying not to laugh.</p><p>- Ro, it would be a much bigger problem if you didn't have a hard-on when you were 15.</p><p>- You don't understand, Curt. I'm having the hard-on...now and ... - Roland choked on his own saliva and coughed in an excess of emotion.</p><p>- So. I think I should go home. Someone's physical appetites is beginning to cross the line, - Curt made as if to leave, uttering this phrase through exhaled laughter.</p><p> Roland didn't understand at first, then frowned. - I didn't finish to speak. I have it now, because it just happens almost constantly. And that's my problem.<br/>
- Oh, - it was all Curt could say in response to this, but however he relaxed a little and looked at his friend with concern, whose face was contorted with an almost painful grimace. </p><p>- I can't do this. Something is happening to me, and it makes me mad.</p><p>- Roland, it's called puberty. - Curt sat with his hands on the guitar, one hand under his head. – I think that's normal.</p><p>- No, Curt, it's not fucking normal! -  Roland removed the pillow, revealing a prominent bulge that protruded brazenly through his trousers. </p><p> - That's it, do you see this? - he pointed with both hands at the object of his suffering. – What the fuck is going on now? Why are you fucking doing this?  -Roland was talking to his own cock in a desperate voice. - Curt, what do I do with this? -  he looked at his friend pleadingly.</p><p> - I don't get, are you suggesting that I help you? -  Although Curt tried to say it with a grin, trying to continue to laugh it off, his eyes became literally square against his will, and his voice betrayed a note of hysteria in the middle of the sentence.</p><p>Roland stared at him again, and finally, realizing what he was getting at, actively waved his hands and snorted, indicating that this was not what he wanted to say.<br/>
- Don't you like me? -  Curt made a wry face and pouted.</p><p>- Damn, Curt, I'm talking with you seriously, sharing with you the most intimate, and you stupidly banter, - Roland resentfully turned away and again set the pillow on the causal place, slightly wincing and crossing in end hands on breast.</p><p>- Okay, Ro, I'm sorry, - Curt said, feeling a surge of guilt, and he leaned over to touch his friend's arm. – Well ... I just honestly didn't know how to react to all this. Not that I was too embarrassed by the sight of your boner... - Curt scratched his head, - but this conversation really took me by surprise. </p><p>Roland glanced sideways at his friend's guilty face and accepted his apology with a sigh, continuing his outpourings.<br/>
- Yes, I know it may seem funny, but I'm not fucking laughing, Curt. My penis already hurts from the fact that it is constantly in this twisted state under my clothes. It's happening in the morning, noon, and night…It just gets hard like a stake from any fleeting thought of something pleasant, - Roland thought for a moment, and the hair on the back of Curt's neck stood on end, because he remembered that this time Roland's boner had been formed exactly after that innocent kiss on the cheek. He moved back to a safe distance from his friend and touched the guitar strings with his fingers, unconsciously playing a random sequence of minor chords. </p><p> - I'm tired of jerking off. I can't jerk off that much, Curt! - Roland was perfectly serious, while Curt could barely contain a smile at the desperation in his friend's voice.</p><p>- My hands are tired, my penis is a huge callus. My cock will soon be erased and only a skin will remain of it.. Fuck, I'll soon look like a bodybuilder from constant jerking off! And it seems to me that I am absolutely stupid at such moments! - Roland's emotions were genuine, he was really very seriously concerned, but Curt, looking into those unfortunate cartoon eyes during this tirade, still could not stand it and burst out laughing at the general comicality of the entire story.</p><p>- Poor poor Ro, doesn't an erection help for personal growth? What about your books on existential philosophy? A sublimation and so on, - Curt tried to calm down and not laughing at least out loud, looking at Roland's slightly pouting face. – But yes, you're right, something definitely needs to be done about it.</p><p>- Ohh, there's no the fucking personal growth... But...I was actually trying to find a way out, - Roland said. </p><p>- Oh, did you ... did you get laid with Caroline? - Curt asked him in a whisper, as if Roland's relationship with his old girlfriend was some kind of sacred secret. </p><p>- I tried her, but she wouldn't. Again, - Roland sighed loudly. - So I had to look for other options.</p><p>- What are the other options? - Curt whistled, genuinely surprised, not imagining the modest and shy Roland as a hero-lover.</p><p>- Well...damn... anyway, - Roland blushed like a boiled crab. - Remember when we were at that dude's party… I don't remember exactly, it was Andy, probably. -  Seeing that Curt was nodding in acknowledgment of the fact that he seemed to remember this moment, Roland continued. - Well, here it is. There was a girl, Liz. I also drew your attention to her huge boobs.<br/>
Curt was now sitting with his guitar in his arms, listening to his friend's every word with wide eyes. It was a little strange to hear such intimate details, but it was both too intriguing and depraved.</p><p>- She came up to me then and started some conversation of her own, I don't even remember what, -  Roland was trying to reproduce the whole picture in too much detail, but Curt was impatient to get down to the dirty details. He knew that he vaguely remembered this girl, and he had definitely seen her somewhere else, not long ago, but the image was treacherously drifting away from his mind like a dissipating morning mist.</p><p>- She gave me her phone number. She took mine, too. Well, you know me, I wouldn't call because... - Roland sighed, trying to explain what Curt knew without adding anything else. – And then she called me and asked me to meet her. I agreed and I got drunk a little, - Curt chuckled, hoping it was really a little bit, and not like the last time he'd literally had to carry Roland on his back.</p><p>- So, what happened next? - Curt shifted his position slightly, extending his bent leg, which was already stiff from being in an awkward position for so long.</p><p>- And then...it was all a blur, - Roland sighed and exhaled noisily through his nose. - And it just so happens that we were walking past our rehearsal room, and I had the keys to it with me…</p><p>Curt, who had started to pluck the guitar strings again, slowly looked up at Roland, finally understanding where he had seen this fucking mysterious girl. Roland, seeing his friend's strained gaze, waved his hands and hastened to justify himself:<br/>
- Don't worry, we didn't damage anything. But ... anyway, I fucked her. Right there.</p><p>Curt felt a hot wave of shame, embarrassment, and confusion burn his face and ears, turning them almost scarlet as the image of Roland, so mesmerizing in its sex appeal, that bright, bold, delicious in some wild eroticism, surfaced in his mind again, fucking this busty girl with such gusto. He could see again the rhythmic movement of Roland's thighs, his sweaty back and hand on the girl's chest, the hair on the back of his neck slightly matted with sweat, and hear those hoarse moans and slapping sounds, leaving somewhere in the fog of his mind the barely audible real voice of Roland as he continued to recite about his first and most exciting sexual experience. Curt suddenly felt a pleasant tickling sensation in his groin, which made him start, come out of oblivion, hiding his flushed face, staring intently at the guitar neck, at the same time sincerely glad that he had a guitar in his hands, otherwise he would have nothing to hide his beginning longing in his own jeans.</p><p>Finally, Roland finished his harrowing monologue:<br/>
- And you know what the end result is?</p><p>- What? -  Curt said hoarsely, trying to focus on the reality of Roland's room.</p><p>- I realized that I had only made it worse. Now I just look like a sex maniac. I felt so good, but at the same time…I don't know, it's like it's not enough for me…I don't know what I need, - Roland glanced at Curt in the hope, and then moved in closer and pressed his hot forehead to his shoulder. - I'm crazy, right? - What about you? The same way?</p><p>- No, Ro, It's all right, it's probably...it happens sometimes at our age. What about me…I don’t know, it’s too difficult, - Curt wanted to put his arms around his friend, hold his head against his chest, touch his hands to those soft curls, soothe him, but he felt like a complete idiot, feeling as if his hands were filled with lead and became completely unaffordable. Something was happening to them. Something strange was in the air, something mysterious, intoxicating and frightening at the same time. However, there was no room in his soul for personal sexual experiences yet, and he could not yet seriously think about it, while nothing hindered Roland. He wanted to, but could not overcome the psychological barrier due to too vivid childhood painful experiences. He was too confused in his emotions and feelings. He had a girl, but nothing good came of it – paradoxically, but along with the physical satisfaction in his soul settled emptiness due to the fact that he generally did not feel anything for her. Curt thought that something was wrong with him, that he would always be like this, because according to his friends, he should have been soaring in the seventh heaven of happiness. Therefore, he now carefully avoided all kinds of sexual interactions.But now he suddenly felt a lively,genuine emotion for his friend...and suddenly he was afraid, because Roland was a young man... Finding nothing smarter, Curt simply came up with an excuse to return home and shamefully retreated, recovering from the stupid feeling that he was completely disassembled into pieces, like a picture of a puzzle that fell to the floor with the pieces scattered in all directions.</p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p>- Curt? Eh, Curt? - Roland's voice came to him out of the fog. – You know, I'm very patient, but I don't have nerves of steel.</p><p>Curt stared at Roland blankly.</p><p>- That sound will soon drive me mad. Pay attention to the fact that your guitar has several other strings besides this one, - Curt finally caught himself thinking that when he started tuning his brand-new,black, shiny, futuristic-looking "Steinberger", he was too deep in his youthful memories. He was sick of the fact that they understood everything only now, although it was clear even to the hedgehog that if he had hugged Roland then as an empathy, pushing all his fears, which really did not make any sense in that situation, just making one touch of his lips to his cheek, lips, neck, no matter – and now everything could be completely different. But they were two young stupid asses, and they never thought of these things back then. After that, they spent a long time trying to find salvation in the girls, expecting them as magic queens to come and save their lives. It just didn't happen. Everything was catastrophically wrong. Something important was constantly eluding him. He was always vaguely aware that he wasn't whole when he was with Lynne, but he felt very different with Roland. Now this feeling was growing with incredible speed, completely knocking him out of the usual rut of life.He had not noticed that for several minutes the string of his guitar had been making the same low, humming monotone.</p><p>- Did something happen to you? More misunderstandings with Lynne? - Roland muted the strings of his guitar and looked intently into the absent and strangely sad eyes of his friend.</p><p>- No, what makes you think that? - Curt couldn't hold Roland's gaze and he began to tune the next string, trying to understand the unusual design of the headless bass. </p><p>- You're a little strange today, quiet, - Roland explained, - you're usually...not so focused.</p><p>- We're fine, - Curt said, suspiciously faintly smiling.</p><p>- I don't believe it, - Roland said with an incredulous chuckle. - You know, I thought about something lately.</p><p>- Mmm? - Curt raised one eyebrow in interest, trying to figure out what was wrong with the sound of the string.</p><p>- Let's go somewhere for a couple of days, huh? Or at least one. No matter where, just the two of us! - Roland moved his guitar a little to the right, gripping the neck with both hands. - We can come up with any excuse. Well...for example, we need some new equipment, and we need to go to London immediately. Eh, Curt? - Roland looked up at his friend with the big eyes of Bambi the fawn, sure that he would support the idea.</p><p>But Curt was silent. He stopped playing, but did not look up.</p><p>- Curt? -  Roland was seriously concerned. – What's the matter? Don't you...don't you want to do this? - he wanted to go up to his friend and shake him hard by the shoulders to bring him out of this frightening state.</p><p>- I want to, - Curt whispered, - but I can't. - He looked at Roland with full eyes so much pain that a chill ran through Roland's veins.</p><p>- I didn't get, but what suddenly became wrong again? Tell me what's going on. What could be the reason? - Roland took off his guitar and put it on the stand, then moved closer to Curt.</p><p>- Um...you know... I'm ... - Curt couldn't say what he needed to say out loud, as if it were something unnatural. – I proposed to Lynne yesterday.</p><p>- Oh, fuck, - Roland said, letting out a sigh. - I mean, I not this wanted to say, I glad for you, but..., - on fact feelings Roland were more than mixed, acute prick of jealousy pierced all his being, although before relations Curt with Lynne he perceived as an integral part of his life.</p><p>- But what's the connection between this and what I'm offering you? – He still couldn't understand the reason for the refusal. – You're not getting married tomorrow or the day after. In any case, you need time to arrange everything, come up with it, and prepare it. Well, I don't know how it's done, you know, me and Caroline didn't bother about it.</p><p>- Yes. That's it. It takes time. I need time, - Curt said quietly, but clearly enough.</p><p>- Time for what? -  Roland asked in the same low voice, swallowing hard.</p><p>- Time...to sort things out. Calmly prepare for the wedding, - Curt tried to explain, all that gathered in  painful lump in his soul, but the words stuck in his throat like huge sharp needles.</p><p>- I mean, wait…Are you saying I'm in your way? - Roland couldn't believe it. His breathing quickened, and something like rage began to form inside him.</p><p>- No, that's not what I meant, - Curt said, grimacing in pain and self-loathing. – I just… I don't want to ruin it for Lynne, she's looking forward to it, and I... if we 're... together… I won't be able to concentrate. I can't do this to her. - He was ready to burst into tears right here and now from the unbearable feeling of being between two fires.</p><p> - I guess, you seem to have forgotten the fact that I'm married to Caroline, -Roland retorted. – Do you think she deserves what's going on? No! She doesn't deserve it! But we need to understand and accept the fact that they are also part of our life, whether we want it or not. And you and I - we are who we are, it's different! No need to mix it in one pot! - Roland jumped up from his chair and walked around the studio, actively waving his arms. </p><p>- I remember everything. I'm just asking for a little time, I just need it, - Curt persisted.</p><p>- How long do you need? A day or two, a month, a year? Why the fuck should I even give you this time? Why the fuck should I wait for you? And then you think about it and come back and say, fuck you, Roland Orzabal, I'm going to live with Lynne, and I don't fucking need you? Right? - Roland was getting really worked up. – Who told me that he was afraid that everything would collapse? Was it you? You just fucking played with me like a toy, and now you're leaving? Instead, I'm like a complete idiot, trusting, waiting, and hoping that you and I have at least a ghostly chance to be together!</p><p>- For God's sake, Roland, I'm not going to leave you. - Curt also jumped up from his seat, and the situation in the studio became significantly heated. – I can't do this when you're pushing me like this, when all I'm asking for is a LITTLE TIME to save my sanity so that I don't fuck up everything in the world! </p><p>- Wow, but you sucked me with such pleasure, as if you had no doubt about it, - bitter bile in the form of malicious sarcasm poured out of Roland in a torrent. -Maybe I was pushing you back then, too.</p><p>- Fuck, I'm going to punch you, - Curt instantly flushed and leapt up to Roland, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and intending to knock him right in the face.</p><p>- Ohh, come on! Come on! This is your favorite way to prove your point, prove again that self-control is not your strong point! - Roland went strangely limp in Curt's arms, making no attempt to resist or defend himself, but instead holding his face up for the blow, as if it would make a difference.</p><p>Instead, Curt released him, slumping into a chair and covering his face with his hands.</p><p>- Sorry, Ro…I'm sorry, I'm such a moron…But.... I need time.</p><p>- It feels like the more I talk, the less you seem to hear, - Roland muttered in a perfectly low voice. - Okay, I'll give you time. But don't expect it to be the same as before.</p><p>- Ro, please stop talking like that, I'm already feeling like hell! -  with despair in his voice exclaimed Curt.</p><p>- Me, too. And now…Just go fuck out of here, Smith, - Roland said, quite calmly, but with such a terrible metal in his voice that Curt's heart literally broke and flew down with a whoosh. </p><p>- Roland, please, - Curt rose and took a step toward his friend, but Roland held out his hands warningly.</p><p>- Just fuck away, Curt, - Roland said softly, each word coming as hard as if his throat were being squeezed by a vise.</p><p>Curt looked at Roland again, but Roland simply turned away, sitting down on the floor and covering his face with his hands, signaling that the conversation was over. He hesitated a bit, and realized that there was nothing he could do now, because the offended Roland had crawled into his shell, and only time would be able to get him out of it. He lost him. Forever. His worst nightmare had come true in one of its worst forms. </p><p>Curt dashed out of the studio, almost knocking over Ian as he entered, barely able to make out what had happened in the sound of the driving rain outside, and ran in an unknown direction. Huge black clouds were gathering over his head, not only literally. His exhausted heart, fluttering like a bird in a cage, eventually caused him to turn into a nearby park and stop at a large tree, leaning against it. Curt was breathing hard, his face exposed to the cold rain, not knowing where the raindrops started and where his tears continued – all the moisture was mixed together. His head refused to think, and his chest ached, and ached so much that Curt had to cough to ease it. He was momentarily afraid that he was just going to have a heart attack at 21.  The emptiness, the emptiness of the universal scale, was now in the area of his solar plexus, in the place where, according to some philosophers, man has a soul. It was as if the place had been torn apart by a cannonball, it burned and suffered from a phantom pain, gaping like a giant bleeding wound. Curt groaned, realizing that something had to be done to get rid of this heartfelt suffering, and he spun around and hit the innocent tree several times with his right fist:</p><p>- Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! - Curt turned his back on the tree again, apologizing to a girl who paused as if about to ask something, but then quickened her pace, not wanting to get involved with this lunatic. Curt rubbed his hand – the knuckles on his hand were completely knocked off, the hand hurt and the abrasions stung from the rain, but the physical pain gave the guy the ability to think more intelligently, slightly dulling the aching pain in his sternum. Well, what did he achieve? What? What did he want? What did he want to figure out? What, really, did he not understand? Did he need this stupid quarrel to figure out how much he really needed Roland? Understand that this is not just an attraction, it's not even just a friendship. It seemed to be a new feeling that Curt could not yet name, and it warmed him, permeating every cell of his body. But in fact, this feeling had always been with him from the very first day of dating, but he just didn't understand it. Why, in order to come to vital conclusions, does he need such adrenaline bursts? What kind of person is he? However, he smiled to himself and his conclusions like a madman, crying now with happiness. He wants to be with Roland. He doesn't need any time. He doesn't need to be afraid of anything. He just needs to be there for him. My God, Roland is so wise, because he was right when he said today that they are a completely different universe, which does not have to be connected to the ordinary world around them, which they are forced to live in anyway, because they did not have the brains to deal with their feelings before.</p><p>Curt longed to go back to the person closest to him, to hold him, to hug him, and never let go again. But the young man realized that he was completely drenched from the rain and cold, and common sense prevailed, telling him that first he had to get home to change and get warm, otherwise he would be of no use as a soloist if he caught pneumonia. In addition, as a guitarist, he will also be of little use with his injured hand. What a jerk, Curt chuckled to himself. How the hell is he going to show up at home like this in front of Lynne?  She'll want to figure out where he managed to break his arm like that. Suddenly, he heard a thin squeak. Curt listened, and realized that the sound was coming from his left. He scanned the surrounding area and noticed a tiny kitten, shivering and wet through, perched on a branch of one of the trees. Without a moment's hesitation, he lifted the poor animal from the branch and tucked it into his bosom, glad that the kitten would get proper care, and doubly glad that he could now tell Lynne about how he had heroically saved the animal by sacrificing his own hand. It was his treasure now.  Stroking the cute, drying furry creature purring from the sudden warmth of the human body, and kissing its pink nose, he hurried to catch a cab and went home.</p><p>* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</p><p>Meanwhile, Ian went up to the studio, hoping that Roland would clarify the situation with mad Curt flying past him at the speed of sound. But as soon as he entered the room, he realized that all his hopes had been dashed when he saw Roland lying on the floor, curled up, his arms around his legs, and his face as white as a sheet. </p><p>- Roland, what the fuck happened? Why are you lying on the floor? - Ian leapt to his companion, shaking him by the shoulder. Roland didn't answer, and Ian noticed that he was shaking like a man in a fever. </p><p>- What the fuck happened here? - Groaning, he lifted the tense but unresisting Roland, terrified to death by his empty, unseeing eyes, and dragged him to the couch. Ian touched his friend's forehead, then withdrew his hand as if scalded, realizing that the guy was simply burning, and that was why he was feverish. </p><p>- Hell, I'm calling Caroline, I don't know what's wrong with you, but she'll definitely handle it better, - the scared guy muttered as he dialed Roland's apartment number. </p><p>- Please don't, - Roland whispered under his breath…</p><p>- Oh, fuck, and what should I do? - Ian squealed in confusion, but put the phone down. He darted to Roland, who was still sitting in the same crouched position, then scratched his forehead and remembered the blanket he kept in his locker in case he had to stay in the studio at night. He wrapped the guy up in a cocoon and went to the kitchen to make tea, regretting they had consumed the entire bottle of whiskey that would have been so useful now.</p><p>Roland sighed heavily. Curt doubted it. He doubted their feelings, whether it was necessary for him. He was just playing with his feelings. And he believed, the stupid little idiot. He believed it again. They've come this far, and for what? Lord… Roland sobbed, and shivered with a sudden fever. He felt as if he had been stabbed through with thousands of red-hot daggers, which had also been previously dipped in poison or sulfuric acid. This feeling burned him from the inside out, forcing him to tighten his hands around his ankles and clench his teeth with such force that he could probably have easily snapped the largest diameter of rebar.<br/>
He trusted him, and he thought Curt trusted him back, but he was wrong. Roland had planned their immediate future, even if it was limited to a few days together, and Curt had simply rejected his impulses, referring to the preparations for the wedding. The wedding... Roland sobbed loudly and noisily. Why did it hurt so much, because it had been preordained for a long time – Curt had been living with Lynne for three years, and they had been talking about getting married for a long time. He might have taken it quite normally before, but now it sounded like a bolt from the blue. He just didn't expect such a trick. Roland's mind kept denying the fact that Curt was being torn apart on both sides, Lynne, who wanted to put on her wedding dress, and he, who wanted to take Curt away from the world. He saw only that he was rejected, betrayed. His emotions were running high, finding vent in a strange, painful reaction from an organism that for some reason had forgotten how to produce tears.</p><p>He realized that Ian was calling to him, holding a cup of fragrant tea.</p><p>- Ro, drink it, it's hot, I even found honey. Usually, this helps…, - Ian thought about it, but finally nodded to himself, agreeing with the phrase. </p><p>Instead, Roland grimaced and turned away. </p><p>- Why are you like a child?  Do I need to give you a drink with a spoon? - seeing that Roland didn't really want to get out of the blanket, he realized that he was probably going to have to do it after all. - Fuck, Roland, - Ian whimpered, but he literally stepped over himself and sat down in the chair opposite Roland, spooning the hot sweet drink into his mouth. Fortunately, at least he wasn't showing off, or Ian would have just hit him with something heavy and that's all.  </p><p>Finally, after the strangest tea ceremony of his life, Ian sat down next to Roland, not knowing where to start the conversation.<br/>
- Look, how could he leave you like this? You're supposed to be bosom buddies, and all of a sudden... -  Ian checked Roland's forehead again. Roland was still hot, but his forehead was already covered with perspiration. A good sign, Ian thought.</p><p>- I wasn't sick, - Roland said, drawing a deep breath and burrowing deeper into the blanket.</p><p>- Yeah, well, you suddenly got sick when I came in so you wouldn't have to work, - Ian said sarcastically, but he paused for a moment, looking at Roland, who didn't react. He looked again at his friend closely, at his deeply unhappy, pale face.</p><p>- Oh, Jesus Christ, -  he said, beginning to understand. But his mind refused to put the facts together; it was simply impossible. He had known the guys for so long, and everything he had seen recently was nothing more than a joke. No, that wasn't possible, Ian thought again, but he didn't say a word. </p><p>Roland's breath came in ragged gasps, as if something was preventing him from taking a normal deep breath. Something painful squeezed his chest like an iron ring, cutting off access to oxygen. The only thought in his mind was that Curt had abandoned him, abandoned and traded him for a normal and quiet life. It was all so wrong. They had known each other for so long, and what had happened these days – Roland knew that they were on the verge of something strong and profound that would change their lives radically, he was completely prepared for it, he met these changes with open arms, despite his fears and misgivings. He hadn't expected Curt to think otherwise. Roland tried to take a deep breath again. Unsuccessfully. He exhaled with a hoarse sound that made Ian nervous again.</p><p>Ian fidgeted on the couch next to Roland, wiping his sweaty hands from excitement for his friend, not knowing what to do. In the end, he decided and hugged this huge cocoon of blanket with a caterpillar in the shape of Roland sniffing inside, holding the cocoon closer to him. Reassured by the fact that the caterpillar did not resist, he began to stroke him on the head, as if it were a small baby. Ian felt like a big brother to this stupid, unhappy creature, cradling the cocoon in his arms.<br/>
This sudden kindness and concern of Ian's finally worked as a catalyst, causing tears to fall in a hail from the young man's eyes. He sobbed more than ever, cradled by Ian, choking on heavy sobs, remembering over and over again what he had told himself, believing that he was absolutely right. The bitterness was so strong that Ian could not stand it and eventually let out a stingy tear of pity for the unfortunate boy. He still didn't understand why Roland was crying so much, but the intensity of his grief was too deep not to stir Ian's heart.<br/>
When he finally wept, Roland felt his thoughts growing more and more confused, and his mind gradually drifting away into the misty distance. The tension of the quarrel and the mysterious illness were making themselves felt. He did not notice that he had fallen into an uneasy sleep, accompanied by visions of Curt leaving. Roland could not calm down, his body periodically shuddering in Ian's hands. Ian was about to let go of the sleeping cocoon to lay it on the couch, but he suddenly moaned and sobbed again, and Ian sighed and started cradling him again like a huge baby. Finally, a few minutes later, Ian heard his friend's quiet snoring. When he was sure that the guy was asleep, he laid him down carefully and tiptoed to the kitchen. He needed to drink tea to calm his excitement, but he still listened to the sounds from the room.</p><p>Roland slept for almost three hours and awoke well enough – the fever was gone, but his face was still pale. Thanking Ian for his concern, he warned him that he might not be in the studio for a few days, because he and Caroline were going to visit her relatives. He didn't say a word about what had happened a few hours ago. Roland didn't want to think about it again – he pushed these bitter thoughts to the farthest corner of his mind, because he knew that otherwise his brain would just explode and his broken heart would be impossible to put together. After saying goodbye to his colleague, he went home.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Goodbye, my friend....</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>A week passed, and no word or sign of Roland. The phone in his flat didn't answer, and the door didn't open. No one knew where the couple had gone or to whom, and it was unimaginable, knowing Roland's severe pedantry about work and everything else. Curt sat in the studio, stroking the guitar strings thoughtfully and looking at nothing – the stubble on his face was already a week old, despite the preparations for the wedding. His bandmates had never seen Curt like this, so they tried not to touch him unnecessarily, knowing that something serious and unpleasant had happened between the friends. Ian was doing something with the main synthesizer, programming the sound of their parts for live performances, Manny was just spinning drumsticks in his hands, sitting at his drum kit and talking about all sorts of nonsense, not caring that, in general, no one was listening to him. Chris had been running around the studio like a fury, trying to figure out where the hell Roland was and what the hell he'd been doing for a week.</p><p>- Curt, where the fuck is he? We have a show in a couple of days, what the hell is he doing? Your entire future career literally depends on this show! - The producer raged, and it could be understood - the show breaks down and the reason for this is the strange behavior of one of the leaders of the group, or rather, the complete absence of this very leader.</p><p>- Your money depends on it, be honest, - Curt retorted, meeting the producer's glare. - Chris, I've told you a hundred times – I have no idea where Roland is.</p><p>- He doesn't know! One time you're practically living together like two lovebirds, the next you don't know where to find him? - Chris asked, running back and forth with his hands in his pockets, while Ian and Manny grinned at the same time. – Do you have any idea what this is all about? - He stopped in front of Curt and waved his hand in front of his face.</p><p> - I understand, but I can't do anything.</p><p>- Fuck! Are you kidding me? - Chris squealed. - Manny, - he said to the drummer, who got up from the drum kit and sat down next to Curt. - Maybe you know, huh?</p><p>- No, I don't.</p><p>- Are you Ian?</p><p>- I haven't the faintest idea, either, - the keyboard player shrugged.</p><p>- He doesn't have a faintest idea, either, - Manny repeated.</p><p> - Curt, think about it, - Chris stopped in the middle of the studio, looking hopefully at his colleagues.</p><p> -Think about it, Curt, - Manny said again.</p><p>- Ohh, damn, I don't know, get the fuck away from me! - Curt put down his guitar in exasperation and tucked both legs under him on the couch.</p><p>- He doesn't know, - he heard the voice of Manny.</p><p>- Shut the fuck up already! – The guys yelled together, annoyed at Manny's idiotic repetition.</p><p> - Okay, okay, what are you yelling at? - Manny stepped aside, hands in front of him in surrender.</p><p>- In short, I don't care how or where you look for your friend-comrade. But if he's not here tonight, or at least tomorrow afternoon – I'll tear you to pieces, I'll shove these guitars up your asses so deep that the guitar necks will stick out of your throats. I hope you understand. - Chris loomed over Curt.</p><p> - I didn't get, are you threatening me now? - Curt stiffened, glaring at the producer.</p><p>- So, stop, Chris, hold your horses, we really don't know where he is or when he will return,-Ian realized that the situation with Curt flaring his nostrils could get out of control, and the beaten producer was not part of the group's plans, so he hurried to defuse the tense moment. - Roland knows about this show, it was mentioned two weeks ago. I am sure that he will appear on his own, and I think his responsibility and professionalism will be enough to make everything all right.</p><p>- Then let him pray. His happiness, if he will appear with ready material for a new album, otherwise I will kill the curly bastard. - Chris was still grumbling, but thanks to Ian's calmness, it was clear that his ardor had diminished.</p><p>Suddenly, the bell rang at the studio door.</p><p> - Oh, has the prodigal son come home? - Chris said, crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p>- I don't think Roland has keys, he never rings the doorbell, - Curt said, scratching the stubble on his chin in suspicious. – I'll open it.</p><p>When Curt opened the door, he stared at the postman who stood in the doorway.</p><p> - Er, good afternoon. You must be mistaken, - Curt didn't know what to say, but he tried to be polite as he stared at the letter in the young man's hands. He had not expected the postman's visit.</p><p>- Good afternoon, sir. I have a letter for Mr. Smith, - the postman replied calmly.</p><p>- What? - Curt scratched his cheek. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw the familiar handwriting on the envelope, which contained his name and the address of the studio.</p><p> - Sign there, please, - the postman handed him a form and a pen. - Thank you, and have a nice day.</p><p>- Thank you… - Without looking at the young man, Curt closed the door and walked stiffly inside the studio, at the same time ripping open the envelope with trembling hands, trying to do it as carefully as possible.</p><p>- Since when do we get letters? Are we being invited to some great event of the year? - Manny jumped up to Curt, trying to see over his shoulder what was written on the pieces of paper.</p><p>Curt turned and glared at Manny in silence, putting the neatly written pages of the notebook away from his eyes. It was something very personal, something that Roland only wanted to say to him, and otherwise he wouldn't have had to put on this whole show. Curt sat in the corner of the couch, trying to concentrate on reading these small lines of poetry and not miss a single detail.</p><p>
  <em>When in love with a blind man</em>
  <em><br/>
You watch what you say and you watch yourself burn<br/>
With dreams of escaping<br/>
Make love to the man that shapes your behaviour<br/>
<br/>
</em>
</p><p>He had said that day that he would like to go away with Curt, away from everyone, so that they would be nothing to fear… How original, and how to understand it? Is Roland offering ...to make love with him? Lord… Curt covered the lower part of his face with his hand to hide his smile. But after this stupid argument, Roland doesn't want to talk openly, for fear that he will reject him again. Stupid boy…Curt got up from the couch as Manny sat down next to him and again tried to poke his curious nose into the contents of the letter.</p><p>But the next page froze his blood, and his heart thundered down. The whole conversation came back to Curt's mind in a rhyming cry of pain and resentment from Roland at him, all the anguish he had voiced that terrible day was now in the form of these piercing lines.</p><p>
  <em>There's only need, I love your need<br/>
So much I'm losing me<br/>
I cannot see the reason for the pain<br/>
With hungry joy, I'll be your toy<br/>
Just hoping you will play<br/>
Without the hope my body starts to fail<br/>
<br/>
The more I talk, the more I say<br/>
The less you seem to hear<br/>
I'm speechless in a most peculiar way<br/>
Your mind is weak, your need is great<br/>
And nothing is too dear<br/>
For you to use to take the pain away<br/>
<br/>
Memories fade but the scars still linger<br/>
Goodbye my friend<br/>
Will I ever love again?<br/>
Memories fade<br/>
Memories fade but the scars still linger<br/>
<br/>
</em>
</p><p>Curt staggered, only managing to stay on his feet by grabbing the corner of the table in time. The blood drained completely from his face, his ears began to noise, and the room swam before his eyes after reading the last lines. "Goodbye, my friend," echoed in his mind. White as a newly whitewashed wall, he stood absolutely speechless, gasping for air like a fish stranded on a beach. Curt longed for this to be a dream, a terrible nightmare, but still a dream. But to his horror, all these absurd things were happening in his and Roland's reality, and their shared insanity was to blame.</p><p>Curt was roused from his stupor by Chris's attempt to snatch the pages of poetry from his hands. Curt crumpled up the sheets and snarled at him so that he jumped back almost a meter in fright. The young man began to run from corner to corner, clutching his head, ignoring the bewilderment of the others present. They wanted to pretend to be invisible; trying to do their own thing, hoping that the hurricane named Curt would pass them by, leaving everything around them intact. But Curt stopped in the middle of the studio with a groan, and then jumped up to Ian and grabbed him by the shirt, despite his protests:</p><p>- Ian, where can he be? You stayed in the studio with him then. What did he tell you, where did he go? - Curt shook Ian as if it would help him get the information he needed, but Ian just shoved him away, saying that he didn't know anything, and that they had already fucked him up with their madhouse.</p><p>Curt, receiving no response, dropped his hands abruptly, realizing that Roland had not left. He wouldn't need to hide himself. All this time he had been at home, shut up in his flat as a refuge with the faithful Caroline on guard. And she was happy to accept his plan to shut out the outside world so that she could spend more time with her husband. But did she know of his terrible intentions? God, of course not… Curt raced around, wringing his hands and not knowing what to do. His imagination drew terrible pictures, he was more afraid than life that he had not had time…</p><p>- Chris, let's go! - He shouted, running for the door as fast as he could, sure that Chris would follow him.</p><p>- I'm a fucking producer, not a cab driver, - he grumbled, but still followed Curt under Ian's reproachful and concerned gaze. He began to realize that something irreparable had probably happened.</p><p> Curt was practically crying in the car, his hands gripping the front panel as if it would make the car go faster.</p><p>- What the hell is going on, can you finally explain?</p><p>- Later, Chris, later, - Curt jumped out of the car, slamming the door to Chris's disapproving sigh, and ran for front door Roland's house. In an instant, he was on the right floor and ringing the doorbell. No one answered, but that was not surprising. Curt wanted to knock on the door, but as soon as he touched it, he realized that the door was unlocked. The young man's heart began to pound like a motor running at the limit of its capacity.</p><p>- Roland? -  Silence answered him. - Caroline? - Again, no one answered. Curt walked a little deeper into the flat looking around warily, as if afraid of seeing a ghost. The sound of running water was coming from the bathroom, and Curt was about to take a step toward it when he noticed an empty medicine bottle lying on the floor by the kitchen table. With cold hands, he lifted the vial to read the name of the drug – Roland's sleeping pill, which he sometimes took for sleep problems.</p><p>- Roland, - Curt whispered, because his voice was suddenly gone. - Roland!!!! Ro!!!!- finally the guy screamed, understanding, that he now simply dies, if.....It was as if he had suddenly lost a part of himself; he felt it now as keenly as if one half of his heart had suddenly been left. Nobody can live like this, nobody can live with half his heart. He finally realized that this mysterious feeling that had been tormenting him for more than a week was called love. A sweet and beautiful feeling, but so bitter in their case. Why was it only the fear of losing Roland forever that could open his eyes to this?</p><p>Rushing to the bathroom, he began pounding on the door with his hands. The door was locked from the inside, and Curt was just beginning to shoulder the door out when the door suddenly burst open and he flew into the bathroom, falling right into the arms of Roland, who couldn't stand on his feet, and the two of them fell right into the tub of water.</p><p>- Smith, are you fucking crazy? -  Roland exclaimed in amazement, climbing out of the bath with Curt's hand. – What damn are you doing?!!</p><p>- Roland, - Curt let out a wild breath and threw his arms around his friend, ignoring the wet clothes and the clouds of foam around them. - Roland, you're alive, I thought… I thought…that you..., -tears involuntarily trickled down his cheeks. Curt took Roland's face in his hands and began to shower him with kisses, muttering something unintelligible as he did so.</p><p>- I...of course I'm alive. Could it have been any other way? -  Roland stopped his friend, looking anxiously into his face, holding his trembling hands in his own.</p><p>- Your lyrics… They scared the shit out of me. God, I thought you wanted to…And this empty vial of pills, - Curt was openly bursting with tears, all his emotions surging out in a torrent from the realization that all his experiences had been in vain. A sense of immense relief opened his soul wide to meet Roland.</p><p>- Oh, Curt, - Roland breathed, only now realizing what Curt must have been going through in the last hour… - I didn't think about it…I just thought you didn't want to be with me anymore, that's what I meant. I've been feeling so bad all these days. Just throw these lyrics in the trash. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... - He began to kiss the cheeks of the young man salt from tears, occasionally kissing his chapped lips.</p><p>- I just wouldn't have survived it, Ro, I would have died next, I couldn't live without you! I'm sorry, Roland, for all the stupid things I said. It was all so stupid, just let's forget this misunderstanding. I just…I realized... how much I love you, Roland.</p><p>- What? - Roland thought he had heard something wrong.</p><p>- I love you, Ro, more than anyone in this world, - Curt said, taking Roland's face in his hands again and looking him straight in the eyes with all the sincerity and love he could muster. – I love you.</p><p>- Curt, - Roland let out a loud sigh, as if the earth were slipping away from under his feet with a sense of unearthly happiness. – I love you, too…As much as ever loved... - a loud sniff from  suddenly rolling tears of happiness, he grabbed Curt's waist, clutching him to himself, completely wet, kissing his lips and melting from the feel of Curt's hands on his neck and shoulders.</p><p>They kissed without feeling the passage of time, without feeling the surrounding space. The young men were again transported to their own reality, to their own vast universe filled with passion and tenderness, lust and love, unbridled desires and friendly understanding. Polar concepts, the same as the characters of friends in love, who were drawn to each other as opposite charges.  This was a universe where there was no room for anyone else – just the two of them and their huge feeling which they were finally ready to completely divide in half. No fears, no doubts-it all became so unimportant. Curt and Roland could have enjoyed gentle, unhurried kisses for an eternity, but the noise at the front door brought them back to the mortal world.</p><p>- Caroline's back, - Roland breathed, burying his forehead in Curt's one. – You'll have to go out to her.</p><p>- Yes. And by the way, no trash. Those lyrics will be beautiful songs. Let them be a reminder of what not to do. - Curt reluctantly slipped out of his friend's arms and headed for the kitchen.</p><p>- Oh, Curt, how did you get here? And why are you all wet? - Caroline paused with a bag of rolls at the kitchen table, looking at her husband's friend with genuine surprise.</p><p>- Ask your hubby that, - Curt said, smiling back at her as he started making up stories. – This is how he greets expensive guests.</p><p>- You shouldn't break into people's homes without asking. - Roland's laughing voice came from the bathroom.</p><p>- Since when did this home become a stranger to me? Caroline, what he on about? - Curt continued to jokingly argue with Roland as he helped Caroline arrange her purchases. – Anyway, you should thank me for coming in and not some maniac. Otherwise, you'd be in trouble in your bathroom.</p><p>- Curt, for God's sake, what are you talking about? - Caroline burst out laughing. – I'll get you some dry clothes, or you'll catch cold. - She went to her and Roland's bedroom, scolding him for forgetting to close the front door behind her.</p><p>Curt took off his wet clothes with satisfaction, glad that he and Roland were the same size, and now his clothes were just right. He slipped into Ro's sweatpants and began to poke his head into the collar of Roland's t-shirt, enjoying the faint scent of his cologne that was lost somewhere in the tangle of threads in the t-shirt's fabric.</p><p>- I take it you've already made up, - Caroline said as she poured tea and set out baskets of pastries on the table.</p><p>- Something likes that, - Curt said, smiling slyly at Roland. –I hope this nut doesn't show off any more.</p><p>- I hear it from a nut, - Roland snorted his mouth full.</p><p> - What are you planning now?</p><p>- Thanks to this Freaky Feathers, we have a lot of work to do. We need to rehearse a few songs before the upcoming show, and try to record the new ones that Roland has kindly provided us with today, - Curt spoke the truth, omitting the details of getting the new verses and the fact that he almost had a stroke from them. – Really, Ro?</p><p>Curt watched out of the corner of his eye with an innocent angelic expression as Roland's eyes gradually became square and his jaws forgot to chew food, because under the long tablecloth that covered everything under the table to the floor, his foot slowly crawled up Roland's ankle, and then abruptly, but gently and carefully, it rested on his crotch.</p><p>- Roland, we need to hurry, there's a furious Chris waiting for us in the studio, who promised to fuck us up right there and in front of everyone if I don't find you today. Somehow I'm sure you don't want to, - Curt was laughing at the foolish look of his friend, who sat like a statue and was afraid to move in order not to give himself away, because the friction under the table in his crotch was too obvious. Roland abruptly pushed back his chair, robbing Curt of the sensation of his erect penis, and with a strangled mutter to Caroline, hurried into the room, pretending to want dressing warmly. He pulled on a longer sweater to make sure nothing was visible, and then he and Curt, smiling like two madmen, left the house and headed back to the studio.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Say what you want, say what you will...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Curt intently beat out a rhythm on the strings of his bass during "Pale Shelter". This was the very responsible live performance, he was  afraid very much to make a mistake and fail, so he very carefully followed the movements of his fingers on the guitar neck during his simultaneous singing. They had already played "Mad World" perfectly, and everything seemed to be going just wonderfully – Roland with his guitar was dancing next to him, and Ian and Manny were doing just as well with their parts.</p>
<p>Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Curt noticed that Roland was looking at him suspiciously often, which was unusual for him – most of the time, Roland was extremely focused and, when performing, visually addressed most of the audience. But not this time.</p>
<p> "You don't give me love," Curt drawled, and  looked out of the corner of his eye at Roland again, who should have continued the sentence. Roland continued it, but in such a way that Curt suddenly struck a disastrously wrong chord. Roland, pressing his full lips close to the microphone and closing his eyes, practically whispered in a deep baritone "You give me pale shelter", starting a lustful game. Curt barely gathered his wits as he continued his singing, but Roland decided that wasn't enough and repeated his trick with the words "You give me cold hands", flashing the dark olives of his vicious eyes in Curt's direction, without removing his sensual lips from the microphone. The young man sang the rest of the chorus with strain, glancing at Ian, who was staring at Roland with his jaw hanging open, holding the same note on the synthesizer indecently long. Noticing Curt's look, who regretted that this performance was not lip-syncing, Ian remembered that he was still on stage and buried his eyes in the keys of the instrument. Behind the stage, Chris was waving from the backstage, indicating that he would either hang them or open their throats after this performance for such idiotic fails.</p>
<p>- Hey? What the fuck was that?! - the producer grumbled, trying not to be overheard by anyone, addressing Curt more. - You've had a lot of time to get ready, and you're just ruining the performance out of the blue.</p>
<p>- Chris, you don't have anyone else to attached to? Why the hell do you always set all the dogs on me? - Curt stopped abruptly, causing Roland to slam into his back before he could slow down. – That's the culprit, actually. - Curt grabbed the struggling Roland by the wrist and pulled him forward, pushing him toward Chris.</p>
<p>- From what I hear, he played it perfectly, - Chris said.</p>
<p>- Yes, but he had an impudence to interfere with the others, - Curt explained, despite Roland's cautious hiss, who was painful from the iron grip of his friend's hand.</p>
<p> - Anyway, you guys are lucky if it goes unnoticed, - Chris said with a sigh. - Get the fuck out of my sight.</p>
<p>Curt didn't take long to persuade himself, pulling Roland along with him. He walked at a brisk pace through the long, tangled corridors of the TV studio, peering into every nook and corner, dragging the intrigued Roland after him.</p>
<p>- Curt, where are you taking me? -  Roland puffed, barely able to keep up with his friend.</p>
<p>- I think you can guess, since you were so actively asking for it.</p>
<p>- Asking for what?</p>
<p>- Ro, don't play innocent. After what I just saw on stage, it looks at least ridiculous.</p>
<p>Roland snorted, but he didn't deny it.</p>
<p>Finally, Curt pushed the door of another utility room, which gave way, and he pulled Roland inside, at the same time scanning the room for anyone else. Fortunately, the room was empty except for racks and shelves with various odds and ends. Curt locked the door from the inside, then immediately pressed Roland against the wall, burning his lips with a hot kiss.</p>
<p> – What did you say about cold hands, huh? - Curt whispered hotly, his lips brushing Roland's neck, his hands sliding down his back and squeezing the folds of his shirt, periodically forgetting how to breathe from the contact of his groin with his friend's groin.</p>
<p>- It's been so long since I've had this feeling that I've forgotten it, - Roland whispered with a grin, while at the same time lightly touching Curt's lips, - and I thought I'd better check it out again at my leisure. -  He looked defiantly into his friend's eyes.</p>
<p>- So what do you want, you bastard? - Curt said softly, pulling away from Roland's mouth, looking at him with a hazy gaze, trying to keep his own mind in place as it drifted away into the distance.</p>
<p>- Suck me, - Roland said flatly, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the guy.</p>
<p>Curt's eyes widened like saucers, almost popping out of their sockets.</p>
<p>- Roland, I'm surprised at you today. Where is your politeness and sense of tact? - Curt chuckled, recovering somewhat, but began stroking Roland's cock through his pants.</p>
<p>- Fuck politeness, just suck me off, - Roland sat down with his ass on the first shelf that came across, pushing the reels of film that were lying on it to the floor, leaning on his hands for comfort and closing his eyes.</p>
<p>- You made me nervous, but we'll assume you got away with it today. - Curt fiddled with the belts on Roland's trousers, cursing softly as he did so.</p>
<p>- Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, Roland, what for you have three, damned bitch, THREE fucking belts? What a loyalty belt is this? - Curt puffed, trying to undo the third belt, yanking Roland so hard that he almost fell with the shelf as he . This was not easy, given that the room was dim, and Curt was mostly groping. - Trust me, you're not going to lose your pants with such an ass.</p>
<p>- Curt, sometimes it would be nice if your mouth only opened when my fly unzipped.  Hurry up! - Curt glared at Roland in response to rather risky remark , but didn't say anything, even though he wanted to bend Roland down, take off his own belt, and beat his round ass making it red, for saying something rash about him.</p>
<p>Roland, as if mocking him, began to giggle.</p>
<p>- Roland, if you laugh, I'll take even longer because you're shaking! Oh, my God, Ro, - Curt groaned, realizing that now he still had to deal with a number of buttons on the guy's pants. – You're just the sex maniac's worst and most ridiculous nightmare – he'll either cry and run away, or he'll just kill you out of frustration. To be honest, I already like the second option.</p>
<p>- I'm sorry, Curt, - Roland said, shuddering with silent laughter. - I didn't think of that…</p>
<p> - He didn't think of that, - Curt grumbled, finally taking out Roland's hot cock and immediately taking it in his mouth, causing the young man to gasp at the sensations that surged through his loins like a million huge butterflies with flames instead of wings, and finally directing his thoughts in a more serious direction.</p>
<p>- Ohh, Curt, damn, - Roland muttered under his breath, moving his pelvis uncontrollably in time with his friend's mouth, almost losing his balance as his hand slid off the shelf, - Is this fucking heaven?</p>
<p>- No, this is the fucking utility room of the TV studio. And I hope the angels working here won't spot us, - Curt replied with a soft laugh, intensely jerking his lover's cock.</p>
<p>- By the way, I take back my words about your hands, they are just great, - Roland practically hissed the last word, closing his eyes, - oooohhh....</p>
<p>Curt, seeing that his friend was excited to an outrage, again began to caress his dick, taking it in his mouth and tickling the head with his tongue. Stroking Roland's balls, Curt greedily sucked his cock, completely unashamed of the obscene loud sounds that he made, gradually increasing the pace and effort. Finally, Roland jerked his pelvis, then with a groan exploded in the guy's mouth, suddenly giving out a huge portion of sperm, causing Curt to choke.</p>
<p>- It's like you haven't had sex in six months, - Curt said, catching his breath. – You at least jerk off sometimes, otherwise I'll just suffocate one day. However, what an interesting cause of death – in the respiratory tract found particles of ejaculate.</p>
<p>- Curt, you're a walking pest today, - Roland said with a quiver in his voice.</p>
<p>- Of course, because no one is in a hurry to give me even a little pleasure, just killing my nerves, - Curt said sarcastically again. - Well, okay, let's get out of here before we get spotted, we'll deal with me later. - Curt quietly turned the key in the lock and carefully opened the door, coming face to face with Ian.</p>
<p>- Ian??  - asked Curt, his eyes wide and staring at his collegue. - What are you doing here? - Curt simultaneously tried to push Roland back into the room with his hands, but as luck would have it, Roland showed a completely unnecessary curiosity by sticking his head between the door and Curt.</p>
<p>- I got lost - I was looking for a toilet. But... What the fuck are YOU TWO doing here? -  Ian, equally shocked, tried to understand what was happening before his eyes.</p>
<p>- Ian, buddy, hush, - Curt said in a half-whisper. - We were…stressed out…And...in short... - He tried to think of a plausible reason for being here with Roland.</p>
<p>- And?</p>
<p>- We slipped away from everyone, - Curt said, his voice dropping to a whisper, - to smoke a doobie.</p>
<p>- Fucking conspirators, why didn't they call me?  I wouldn't mind relaxing a little, either, - Ian breathed with relief, looking at Roland, who was smiling his most idiotic smile. - Roland, you said you wouldn't do it again, didn't you?</p>
<p>- Erm… I change my mind. - Roland looked at Ian with perfectly innocent angelic eyes, and he really looked like a man who was high on drugs. Fortunately, the keyboardist didn't know the real reason for Roland's bliss.</p>
<p>- Chris lost you there, by the way. And I think he's ready to kill you, so be careful with words. Or something heavy will fly down to you, - he laughed softly.</p>
<p>- Roland, did you hear that? You go first, you are the most valuable person for him, he will not kill you, except to scold a little. And we will have a head start to find shelter! - Curt pushed Roland forward, slapping him on the ass without Ian noticing.</p>
<p>- Curt, did you have to do this, I mean, to find that room and so on? -  Roland drew level with his friend again, and put a question very softly in his ear.</p>
<p>- What else was I supposed to do? I almost died when I saw your lascivious face during a performance. Sorry, Ro, but I can't bear to see it again during any further events.  I don't know what the devil got into you today.</p>
<p>- Don't you like this devil? -  Roland glared at Curt, biting his lower lip.</p>
<p>- Jesus, Roland, that's enough, or I'll grab you by the scruff  and drag you back to that  room again in front of everyone. And let all burn the blue flame!</p>
<p>- Sounds good, - Roland said softly, but he quickened his pace when he saw Curt's warning, suddenly blackened gaze.</p>
<p>- Bitch, - Curt sizzled, hissing out a breath. – If Chris doesn't kill you, I will. With own hands.</p>
<p>Curt sat in his window seat in the minibus that was on its way home to Bath. It was already dark enough for him to see almost nothing except the sections of road that were illuminated by the street lamps. The monotonous flickering of street lights hypnotized him, drawing his thoughts far into the depths of his mind.  Curt tried to analyze the events of the day, but his head refused to think, his eyes automatically closed to the quiet measured chatter of the guys, sometimes relieved by the slightly louder shouts of Ian and Roland, who were arguing about the sound of bridge in "Change". Periodically, they asked Curt for his opinion, and in the end he sincerely supported Roland's idea, although in the hope that this remark would end the argument, and he would finally be able to relax in the quiet of the ride. Ian snorted, noting that he hadn't expected any other response. Сurt didn't pay much attention, just stared out the window again and closed his eyes. But it seems that the universe  has prepared him for the role of justice of the peace today, because Manny and Chris decided to find out which is cooler, the newest BMW 316, just off the assembly line, or Mercedes 190. They looked at Curt hopefully, because they knew that he was an expert in everything related to cars, but Curt replied irritably that in this case he would prefer the T-34. When the guys asked what it was, Curt explained that it was a tank that would crush both their clunkers to hell, and he would finally be able to rest and think. The bandmates shrugged and muttered that Curt should stick his bad mood up his ass, then turned away, not noticing Roland's brief, puzzled look at his mate. Roland's face frowned for a moment, but after a moment it brightened, taking on a menacingly insidious expression with a crooked grin.</p>
<p>Curt sighed and settled back in the seat, folding his arms over his chest and placing his legs as comfortably as possible in such a small space. He wondered what might have happened if they had stayed at the hotel today, if it hadn't been for the huge amount of urgent work they had to do on the album in the next few days to get it to the record company as soon as possible. Really, what could have happened? Curt just didn't know. He didn't know what to do if they were given a convenient opportunity to be alone without interference. Damn it, he, a grown man, was just completely lost even now, in his thoughts, let alone the real situation. He knew that sooner or later he and Roland would want to cross the line. God, he'd realized that he'd been wanting to cross that line ever since their first kiss. What if Roland refused him? Well, it's crazy, but it's more likely that he will run away as usual, but Roland will be only happy to finish what he started. Oh, how sick he was of all these doubts… How he wished that Roland would make it easier for him by coming to him and letting him know that he was waiting for this, too, so that Roland could just direct his actions, because his own head would definitely be turned off, and he would terrify of doing anything wrong. How he would have liked to be caressed by his partner's soothing hands first, moving smoothly to the gentle touch of his straining penis, so that his hot mouth did not stop its movements for as long as possible...Curt suddenly let out a rather noisy exhalation, because the sensations caused by his subconscious in a half-dream, suddenly turned out to be too realistic. He, having barely opened his eyes at first, instantly woke up the next moment, completely shocked by what was happening in reality. It turns out that while Curt lost his guard, Roland completely brazenly took his cock out of his pants and began to suck it with relish. Right in the middle of the minibus. Right next to all the sleeping bandmates.</p>
<p>- What are you, fucking crazy??!! - Curt whispered hoarsely, looking around fearfully, praying that everyone was really asleep.</p>
<p>- Calm down, dude, - Roland paused for a moment, looking at Curt with dark eyes, making him bite his lip at the sight of the guy's red, swollen lips. - Everyone's asleep.  I just couldn't bear to see your unhappy and irritated face anymore. And when I noticed that your boner naturally rips your jeans while you were sleeping – I couldn't help it.</p>
<p>- But I only dozed off for a few minutes, how did everyone get to sleep in such a short time?</p>
<p>- That's what you think. Curt, stop thinking about unnecessary things, just shut up and relax, - Roland again began to caress the young guy's penis, squeezing it with his lips and pressing his flattened tongue against the hard shaft. Curt, anxiously scanning the interior of the bus for the awakening of colleagues, realized that his attention was becoming more and more scattered with every second, a sweet languor thick molasses enveloped his brain, depriving it of the remnants of common sense. The fingers of his left hand involuntarily buried themselves in the mane of curly hair of his lover, who, without ceasing his magical actions, was taking him to new unknown worlds. His other hand clamped over his mouth, so as not to betray his condition by rapid, ragged breathing, or, God forbid, a groan. Roland paused for a moment to draw air into his lungs, then hastened the pace of his movements, thereby causing rainbow circles behind the closed eyelids of his man, who in a few moments came, by inertia somewhat painfully squeezing the hand of Roland's hair, causing him to barely audible squeak, then, recollecting himself, released the grip. Curt gasped out each breath, trying to do it as silently as possible, looking at Roland with adoration and delight.</p>
<p>- You've finally killed me, Ro. Where's that modest boy, whom I met once on the doorstep of his home? - Curt looked with a smile at the contented youth, who was now trying to curl up in his seat so that, with a sense of accomplishment, he could also take a nap for a while.</p>
<p>- To hell with that nerd. I don't want to know him anymore. Just ... just hold me, Curt. I know it sounds so...weird in this case, but... - Curt cut him off, pulling Roland close, putting his arm gently around his shoulders. Roland leaned back against Curt's chest, snuggling into his arms, not caring for a moment what the others would think when they awoke. Curt kissed his friend on the top of his shaggy head and hugged him tighter, finally falling into the sweet and airy land of dreams.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. And lies spread on lies - We don't care ...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Curt sighed thoughtfully and shivered as he looked out the kitchen window at the empty gray street. He was wrapped up in a warm, cozy gray knit sweater, holding a mug of hot tea in his hands, trying to keep warm – it was cool at home, and completely uncomfortable alone.</p><p>Lynne went to Ann's, to her mother's, telling her that she wouldn't be home until the next day. They had a lot of women's work to do in preparing for the wedding, and besides, Lynne had lost a lot of weight in her nervousness, and the wedding dress was too big in the chest and waist. It was necessary to bring it into proper shape in accordance with the girl's slimmer figure.  Curt kissed his fiancee and closed the door behind her, suddenly realizing that he didn't want to be alone on this dreary, gloomy December evening.</p><p>Behind the glass, wet and heavy snowflakes fell steadily, which melted before they even touched the ground, creating small nasty puddles on the asphalt. On the remaining withered yellow-red-brown leaves of the neighboring tree, which contrasted vividly against the background of dark gray heavy clouds, small clusters of wet snow formed, which, gradually sliding down, fell down and plopped on the ground, scattering into small particles, which hypnotized the guy's consciousness with some strange, somewhat dirty and incorrect beauty.</p><p>The young man, affectionately stroking the grown-up, saved by him kitten named Treasure, curled up on the windowsill in a ball, thought about the mess that was happening in his absurdly developing fate.</p><p><em>- </em><strong>My dear, why is life such a bitch?</strong><em> -</em> Curt scratched the kitten's ear, making it purr like a spring stream. He took the cat in his arms, feeling a little more comfortable in the midst of this oppressive environment. <em>– </em><strong>You know, baby, you and I are so much alike. You were put out on the street because you suddenly became an unnecessary toy in the house. But you were lucky enough to meet me. I used to be something of an unnecessary item in my parents' house – they were far too busy for me, my brothers were on their own. But it always hurt me a little more than it hurt them – I was always trying to draw attention to myself, so that my mother, at least for a moment, would ask how the hell my life was going. And most often it resulted in trouble that ended up in the police station. But then, it would seem, everything got better. I had a best friend, Roland, with whom we could read each other like an open book, and I had a girlfriend, Lynne, who I love...I think...nope, absolutely, I love her. Everything was going so well, I was gradually getting out of the swamp of shit that I had existed in for so long, everything was going on as usual... and suddenly, the universe seemed to simultaneously blow up all the stars, pushing Roland and me into a mad tornado of new feelings, creating an insurmountable collapse in the form of a giant black hole that dragged our lives, and, most importantly, leaving no choice. Why? Why is this? What the hell? Why couldn't it have happened at least a year earlier ... Though…What would have changed…Nothing…We are simply doomed to live like this in our damned society, without the right to choose. I don't want to! I just want to do what I want to do, say what I want to say, without turning around in fear at the crowd behind me, dodging an avalanche of gossip and rumours. I just want to love HIM. Without obstacles, without fears, without fear of being caught off guard...,</strong>- Curt sighed, letting out a soft moan of bitterness, again stroking the kitten for comfort, which, monotonously purring, trampled his soft sweater with small paws in time with the booming heart of the guy.</p><p>The lad returned the cat to her pillow on the windowsill, leaving her to get the fur clean, and he went to the phone. After thinking for a few seconds, Curt picked up the phone and started to dial a painfully familiar number, but suddenly glancing at the clock, which showed almost 11 PM, abruptly put the phone back on the hook. Roland was probably fast asleep with Caroline in his arms, so why bother their family evening with stupid phone calls? But he knew that Roland did not go to bed early. Curt got up from the chair, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, and walked a little hunched up and down past the table where the phone was located, but he didn't dare go to the phone. Then he studied the patterns on the huge Japanese fan on the wall that he and Lynne had bought at an antique sale last month. Counted the strings on his bass in the corner, making sure there were still four of them. Finally, suddenly straightening up from the click of the clock hand that stopped at exactly 11 o'clock, he turned around, cursing at the fact that he tripped over the phone cord and cursing his hands growing out of his ass for not hiding it down along the wall until now, and boldly dialed Roland's phone number again, putting aside all his doubts.  After a series of long rings, the phone was finally picked up.</p><p>- <strong>Hello</strong>, - Curt heard Caroline's pleasant high-pitched voice on the other end of the line.</p><p>- <strong>Hi, Carol, this is Curt. Sorry, it's so late…</strong> - Curt fiddled with the phone cord in his hands, wrapping the wire rings around his finger. – <strong>It's just that I...umm ... I need Roland, and I've got something in mind for our upcoming album, and ... by the way, how are you doing?</strong></p><p>- <strong>I'm fine, thank you,</strong> - it was felt that the girl was smiling. Caroline had always been genuinely sympathetic to her husband's friend, from the moment they met in their youth. - <strong>In the dreary gray of the evening, you suddenly got an inspiration, and you urgently need this seal, lying on the couch with his guitar in his arms to share another masterpiece with him?</strong></p><p>Curt laughed into the phone, confirming Caroline's theory, after which the phone finally spoke in a low baritone.</p><p>- <strong>Ro... I'm alone</strong>, - Curt explained the reason for the late call. – <strong>And I'm going crazy with loneliness. I need you, Ro, right now.</strong></p><p>Pause.</p><p>- <strong>Ro, please. Think of something, or I'll go mad as a prisoner of my own worries. Ro?</strong></p><p>- <strong>I'll be there. Await me</strong>, - Roland replied after a shaky exhalation. He was clearly trying to hide his excitement. - <strong>And don't forget what you just made up, it's brilliant,</strong> - Roland said, glancing at his wife and feeling a pang of guilt at having to compose idiotic lies instantly.</p><p>***</p><p>- <strong>Finally!</strong> - Curt gave Roland a big hug as soon as he stepped into his flat. – <strong>You know, I'm going to have to call a psychiatric team in a little while – I don't think my state of mind about this wedding preparation is going to be restored any time soon.</strong></p><p>- <strong>I thought you were sad and worried about me, but it turns out that's not the case?</strong> - Roland wriggled out of his embrace, feigning resentment.</p><p>- <strong>It's about you</strong>, - Curt turned the guy around to face him, looking him straight in the eye. – <strong>I'm happy about the wedding pretty much, but…</strong></p><p>- <strong>But what?</strong></p><p>Curt held his friend closer to him and began to speak very quickly, as he did in moments of great excitement:</p><p>- <strong>I was rehearsing the Pledge of Allegiance yesterday, and I didn't even notice that instead of her name,</strong> - he lowered his voice to a half-whisper, - <strong>I said yours, Roland... it's a good thing it wasn't in front of Lynne, otherwise we'd be screwed.</strong></p><p>Roland looked into Curt's eyes, which, to his surprise, were filled with tears:</p><p>- <strong>Damn it, Curt</strong>, - Roland whispered, his voice trembling.</p><p>- <strong>I love you so much, man... fuck, I don't want to let this pink romantic snot out, but I bloody love you...</strong> - Curt pressed his lips to his friend's, stifling a sob, allowing only two tiny tears to leave wet tracks on his cheeks. Roland returned the kiss tenderly, choking on its sweetness and the nervous beating of his heart somewhere in the area of his throat.</p><p>- <strong>Ro,</strong> - Curt said softly, breaking the kiss with regret, - <strong>I want to show you something.</strong></p><p>They went into the bedroom, where Curt rummaged in the back of his bedside table and pulled out a small velvet box. </p><p>- <strong>I wanted to give you this for Christmas, but I feel like today is the right time to do it. You may think this is stupid and ridiculous, but ... open the fucking box, or I'll go crazy!</strong></p><p>Roland opened the box, momentarily stunned by the contents.</p><p>- <strong>Earrings?</strong> - Roland stared at the small gold jewelry in amazement. – <strong>In the shape of hearts??</strong></p><p>- <strong>God, I know it looks stupid, I've never given a guy a gift like that.</strong> - Curt stood, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, his hands clenched into fists in his pockets. – <strong>And you, although the most expensive person for me, but you are a fucking MAN! God, what was I thinking when I picked out these earrings, but when I saw them, I knew that they would perfectly symbolize my feelings for you ... Ro, say something, don't make me feel like a bigger dickhead than I really am!</strong></p><p>- <strong>Curt, just shut up at least for a second</strong>, - Roland whispered in response to his friend's lamentations, placing the earrings in his palm with trepidation and viewing them at the right angles relative to the light, enjoying the glint of gold. - <strong>I swear, this is the best gift I've ever received in my life,</strong> - Roland said, looking Curt straight in the eye and giving him a tender kiss on the lips.</p><p>- <strong>Thank you for those lovely earrings, Curt.</strong></p><p>- <strong>Ufff, Jesus fucking Christ, Roland, I thought my heart was going to jump out of my ass while I was waiting for your answer,</strong> - Curt breathed a sigh of relief. – <strong>Do you really like them?</strong></p><p>- <strong>Of course, you stupid little moron!</strong> - Roland went to the mirror, trying on one of the earrings.</p><p>– <strong>Now you'll have to pierce your ear again for the second earring. And something to come up with for Caroline – she'll be sure to ask what the girlish shit is in your ear,</strong> - Curt laughed, looking at their reflections in the mirror, stroking Roland's shoulders affectionately, standing behind him.</p><p>- <strong>Exactly!</strong> - Roland laughed in response. – <strong>And I'll have to lie to her that it was a gift for her, but I liked them so much that I decided to keep the earrings.</strong></p><p>- <strong>Ro…</strong></p><p>- <strong>What, Curt?</strong></p><p>- <strong>Will it always be like now?</strong> - there was a note of alarm in Curt's voice, a little childish.</p><p>- <strong>How?</strong> - Roland looked at his partner in bewilderment.</p><p>- <strong>Now it will always be like this in our lives - lies will spread on lie, and so on indefinitely, because there is no other way.</strong></p><p>- <strong>Unfortunately, it is,</strong> - Roland said thoughtfully, touching the new earring in his ear. – <strong>But does it really care us?</strong></p><p>- <strong>I don't know, Ro ... Probably…I value you too much, so..I think, I don't care.</strong></p><p>- <strong>Will we believe that sooner or later there will come a moment that will change our lives, and this will bring us relief? I know it's a utopia, but ... still...I want to believe it, Curt.</strong></p><p> - <strong>Me too, Ro,</strong> - Curt hugged his best friend, whom he loved more than his shoddy life in the end. – <strong>I also very much hope that the future will be better than the present. And now, I suggest that we brighten up our difficult everyday life with a cup of delicious tea with a pie that Lynne baked... God, how blasphemous it all sounds, and I just want to be happy and not hurt anyone...,</strong> - Curt let out a sound of suffering laughter on the verge of hysterical sobs.</p><p>- <strong>Stop beating yourself up, Curt, it's not your fault. It is the noosphere that has mixed up all our life cards, turning our existence into a complete mess.</strong></p><p>- <strong>To hell with your noosphere. You better tell us what to do next,</strong> - Curt sighed heavily, taking the teapot off the stove and brewing a fragrant tea.</p><p>- <strong>I don't know, Curt. I just don't know. Let everything run its course, and then - time will tell.</strong></p><p>The guys sipped their tea in silence, munching sweet cherry pie, and gazed mournfully at the dark street outside the large kitchen window.</p><p>- <strong>The sky has cleared,</strong> - Roland muttered softly, looking out of the window from under half-closed, sleepy eyes. – <strong>Look at the bright stars!</strong></p><p>Suddenly, Curt jumped up from his seat, noisily putting his cup of tea on the table, and rushed into the room, where he rattled the drawers of the nightstands and the doors of the wardrobe, eventually ringing something metal, like keys, instantly bringing Roland out of a state of half-sleep.</p><p>- <strong>Get your ass up of the chair, I have another surprise for you!</strong> - Curt looked at his friend with conspiratorial, mischievous eyes, which made Roland understandably distrustful of what would follow that devilish twinkle in his lover's eyes.</p><p>- <strong>Can we stay at home?</strong> - Roland said timidly, but Curt gave the lad no chance to resist, winking at him and throwing him his coat as he put on his shoes at the door.</p><p>- <strong>Something tells me that what we're going to do is either dangerous, illegal, or both.</strong></p><p>- <strong>And this is being told by someone who gave me a blow job in the middle of the street and then practically in front of the whole band?</strong> - Curt chuckled, pushing Roland forward up the stairs. - <strong>Cause if anything, you are brave, and this is one of the reasons why I love you so much!</strong></p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>- <strong>Curt, where the hell did you take me?</strong> - Roland asked in a low voice, standing on the threshold of a strange house, looking around warily.</p><p>- <strong>You'll find out in a minute,</strong> - Curt said, pulling his lock picks out of his pocket, and chuckling at the sight of Roland's bulging eyes.</p><p>- <strong>Are you out of your mind, you fucking idiot?</strong> - Roland squealed hysterically, tugging at Curt's jacket sleeve. - <strong>We will be caught! Stop it to hell! And, why the fuck are you still keeping this shit?</strong></p><p>- <strong>This is a fucking memory of a rough childhood with a bunch of stolen violins and cameras for my best friend. Calm down and don't yell, or we'll be spotted for sure,</strong> - Curt, his tongue hanging out, was working on the lock in the dark of the night. Finally, the lock clicked and the door gave way.</p><p> Curt grabbed the guy by the collar of his coat and shoved him inside.</p><p>- <strong>I thought you'd put your kleptomaniac ways behind you. What house is this? Do you have any idea what the headlines will be if the police catch us? <em>"Innocent young musicians turned out to be repeat thieves", " Performers of the hit "Mad world" caught in a burglary"</em>!</strong> - Roland could not calm down, but still followed his friend up, to the first floor of the house.</p><p>- <strong>God, stop wailing like a dull old crone. No one will catch us. I've known this house since I was young. And yes, I've been here many times,</strong> - Curt explained in response to Roland's blank look. – <strong>The owners come here a couple of times a year to check on the house. They live in Liverpool themselves, and they left this house as a legacy to one of their children. You'd better look here,</strong> - Curt pointed solemnly at an object by the window, covered with a white sheet. - <strong>This is exactly what I brought you here for.</strong></p><p>- <strong>What is it?</strong> - Roland slowly walked over to the mysterious object, carefully removing the sheet from it. When he saw what was hidden under it, he was stunned and turned to his pleased with himself friend with a stupid smile.</p><p>- <strong>Ohh, God, I don’t believe it! A real telescope..</strong>. - Roland sat down on a chair in front of the eyepiece and cautiously approached it with his eye. - <strong>Jesus, look at the constellation of Cassiopeia as if right in the palm of your hand… And what a gorgeous Venus – it's so bright! And there's Mars, look, Curt,</strong> - Roland admired the clear night sky, periodically inviting Curt to share his happiness with him.</p><p>- <strong>Where is your Cassiopeia?</strong></p><p>- <strong>It's here, it looks like a "W".</strong></p><p>- <strong>Wow, that's right!</strong></p><p>- <strong>Oh, and there's the reason you're so crazy today, Curt.</strong></p><p>- <strong>What do you mean?</strong></p><p>- <strong>There's a full moon tonight. And the Moon is the patron planet of the sign of Cancer,</strong> - Roland turned to face Curt, being just a couple of inches from his lips. - <strong>That's what affects you so much,</strong> - Roland continued in a whisper, lightly touching the young man's lips with his lips.</p><p>- <strong>This is all so romantic, I'm going to throw up,</strong> - Curt whispered back, giggling and flashing a sly twinkle in his eyes. The corners of his mouth slightly raised in a smile as he returned his friend's kiss.</p><p>- <strong>Listen,</strong> - Roland suddenly looked up from the kiss, his eyes locked on the guy's. – <strong>How could you be so sure that this telescope was still there, even after all these years? Have you been here recently?</strong></p><p>- <strong>I wasn't sure,</strong> - Curt chuckled.</p><p>- <strong>How would you have gotten out of it if he wasn't here? What would be the reason then to be with me here?</strong></p><p>- <strong>Well…I would just fuck you right on this big bed and say that was the plan,</strong> - the young man laughed, carefully examining the huge double bed.</p><p>- <strong>You're a bastard, Smith,</strong> – Roland laughed in response. – <strong>How could I question your ability to get away with anything?</strong></p><p>- <strong>But,</strong> - Roland stared at Сurt again, squeezing his hand hard, making Сurt look down in a strange awkwardness, - <strong>but, wasn't that part of your plan in both scenarios?</strong></p><p>- <strong>How do you think?</strong> - quietly answered the guy, moving closer to his friend and running his hands, hot with excitement, under his sweater, causing an instant rush of sweet shivers in both of them.</p><p> Roland grabbed the collar of Curt's jumper, pulling him as close as possible.</p><p>- <strong>Yes, I was going to fuck you no matter what, Orzabal, how do you like it?</strong> - Сurt sank his lips into the guy's full lips, biting his lower lip in a rush, almost howling at the divine sound of Roland's moan, which sent all the possible neurons in his brain dancing, sending a searing pulse to the corresponding area in his things.</p><p>- <strong>So do it...</strong> - Roland whispered, but Curt felt as if he had heard the phrase on the level of his subconscious, being in a surreal trance, greedily kissing Roland's lips and passionately squeezing his thin body in his arms. Everything was too beautiful to be real.</p><p>But, reality, which probably had an overdose of beauty, decided to put everything in its place, suddenly lighting up the room with a flicker of red and blue colors.</p><p>- <strong>Oh fuck! Bobbies!!!</strong>  - The guys stared dazedly out the window, trying to figure out what to do and where to run.</p><p>- <strong>Roland, cover the telescope and let's go out the back door downstairs! Why are you in the closet, you idiot, get out, hurry!</strong> - Curt threw the sheet over the telescope himself, realizing that he would have to deal with the panic of Roland, who was jumping up and down in horror. He pushed him toward the door, but eventually their foreheads met in the doorway, almost lighting up half the house with sparks that fell from their eyes, because for some reason Roland braked and decided to turn around. Then they bumped in the hallway, because Roland got tangled in the long hem of his coat, which he was carrying, and Curt tripped over his feet, knocking Roland over and sprawling on top of him. Curt cursed and began to lift Roland, who was simply unable to stand up on his own from the hysterical laughter that was choking him, wiping the tears from his eyes.</p><p>- <strong>Daaaamn, Curt, why can't we even get laid properly, what kind of people we are, huh?</strong> - whined Roland, howling with silent laughter as he crawled forward on all fours down the hall, while Curt pushed his ass.</p><p>- <strong>What the fuck are you laughing at, you moron, get up and run to the exit!</strong> - Curt tried his best to keep his tone stern and strict, but he ended up laughing too, unable to bear the sight of Roland's round, wagging ass, crawling in front of him.</p><p>- <strong>My God, how do we get outside now?</strong> -  Roland was still chuckling, but he sounded extremely concerned.</p><p>- <strong>There's a plant hedge – it's almost leafless, but it's still very dense. We'll duck down and walk along it. There's almost no light in the back yard, so they won't notice us. But still, try to walk so that your curly pate doesn't flash from above,</strong> - Curt tried to keep cool and reasonable, making sure that Roland successfully left the danger zone, then carefully and silently closed the door and followed him.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>- <strong>Well, Smith, for fuck's sake! Don't drag me into such adventures again – I don't want to turn gray prematurely,</strong> - Roland  tried to catch his breath, resting his hands on his knees as they reached Curt's house doorway again.</p><p>-<strong> Didn't you like it? It's such an adrenaline rush! The blood still pumping in my veins,</strong> - Curt replied enthusiastically, burying his hand in his thick fringe, trying to untangle the strands of hair that had become tangled from the humidity and fast walking.</p><p>- <strong>Screw you and your adrenaline! I won't deny it was exciting, but ...</strong> - he sighed ruefully. - <strong>Ohh, I think I should go home - it's very late.</strong></p><p>- <strong>Wait, do you really think I called you here for this miserable couple of hours together?</strong> - Curt looked up at his friend. - <strong>None of that, you'll stay with me until morning.</strong></p><p>Roland looked at Curt questioningly and somewhat timidly, opening his mouth to ask the question that bothered him, but he didn't dare, and this silent but understandable question remained suspended in the air, pumping the atmosphere between them to a roar in the ears of the boiling blood in the bodies of young men.</p><p>- <strong>No, Roland, nothing will happen,</strong> - Curt finally found the strength to respond, looking at Roland's disappointed look, but also at his posture, became somewhat relaxed . It was obvious that Roland, although he longed for the logical conclusion of the evening, was not yet ready for what was to follow.</p><p>-<strong> I think your Noosphere made it clear to us in that house that...that it's not time yet. I just want you by my side tonight. If you don't mind, of course,</strong> - Curt stood swaying on his feet, hands in the pockets of his pants, like a timid teenager inviting his girlfriend to a rendezvous.</p><p>-<strong> Just this night?</strong> - Roland stared into his lover's eyes with a piercing x-ray gaze that seemed to penetrate into the very soul, making Curt's skin crawl. Their bond was getting deeper and stronger day by day, so Curt didn't even need to give an answer – Roland understood it without words, walking over and hugging the young man tightly.</p><p>- <strong>Let's go inside – I can't kiss you here,</strong> - Roland whispered, burying his lips in the guy's neck.</p><p>- <strong>Ro, if you're going to keep this up, I can't guarantee myself.</strong></p><p>- <strong>I think you'll have to summon all your will if you're going to be celibate tonight.</strong></p><p>- <strong>I think you'll have to take my will in your mouth to keep it from going anywhere else,</strong> - Curt shot a sly look at his friend.</p><p>- <strong>Well, fine, you devil!</strong> - Guys, laughing went inside the apartment.</p><p>After a while, after taking a shower and drinking a hot cup of tea, which relaxed the tense nerves after a crazy evening, Roland was already snoring steadily on the chest of his most precious person, lulled by the steady beating of his heart. Curt, stroking the young man's slightly damp curls, smiled a happy and serene smile, glad that his happiness was so indecently close, imperceptibly floating away into a sweet and peaceful sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. ...Make love to the man that shapes your behaviour....</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roland sat on the edge of the bed in his and Caroline's bedroom, carefully holding the small velvet box containing the earrings Curt had given him. He couldn't stop enjoying the beauty of these tiny, precious jewelry pieces and was looking forward to the moment when he could put on two earrings at once, anticipating the delight of his beloved boyfriend. But his eyes would fall on another box like this, and the sight of it would instantly blow away all good humor. Roland sighed, putting the box of earrings down beside him and picking up another one. The red velvet burned his fingers like a hot frying pan, but he opened it anyway. A nasty lump rose in his throat, causing him to gasp when he saw the two glittering gold rings inside – one wide for the groom, and the second, slightly narrower, for the bride. But what was the point of suffering now that he had agreed to be Curt's best man? Curt was trying to talk him out of it, and he suggested that he find another person for the role because he knew that it would be too hard to morally portray a simple friendly concern.But Roland was adamant, and he took the rings for safekeeping, as was customary. Who else if not him? Since their youth, they had dreamed of being best men at each other's weddings. It didn't work out with Roland's wedding – he and Caroline were completely broke when they decided to legalize the relationship – since they were living together, her puritanical parents insisted on getting this stupid marriage certificate, as if it made a difference. So the couple decided to marry quickly so they would finally leave them alone. But Curt could afford a real wedding right now, even if it wasn't very fancy, but still. Besides, if Roland wasn't going to be best man, as everyone expected, there would be a lot of unnecessary questions that neither of them wanted to answer. In their lives there is now an excessive amount of lie, even without this.</p><p>The lad sighed heavily again – what a stupid irony of fate?When they dreamed of it in their youth, they could not even imagine that the honorary role of best man would be such a hard test of strength. Without knowing why, he took Lynne's wedding ring out of the box, took off his own, with a tiny diamond, and inserted it into the slot next to Curt's ring. Roland, as if fascinated, admired the composition he had created, which he sincerely believed to be heartbreakingly correct. And at that moment, it was like a bolt of lightning went through his head – they had to finish what they had started! Before the wedding. Necessarily. That's the only way it's going to be right. Looking at the rings, Roland's brain was working hard, trying to figure out how and when....</p><p>Suddenly, the door to the room opened and Caroline's blond head appeared in the doorway.</p><p> - <strong>Roland? Are you going to have dinner?</strong></p><p> - <strong>Yes, yes, Caroline, I'll be right there</strong>, - Roland tried to sound confident so that his voice wouldn't betray his excitement, but instead his own hands let him down – in a panic, he dropped Lynne's ring on the floor and didn't notice where it rolled.</p><p> - <strong>What have you got there?</strong> - Unfortunately for him, Caroline took an interest in the object in his hand, moving closer to examine the rings in the box. Damn, why do all the ridiculous things always happen at the wrong time?</p><p>-<strong> Ah...these are Curt and Lynne's rings…But you know, it's bad luck to show them to anyone, I mean, if it's the best man who does it...</strong> - Roland desperately thought of an excuse not to show the rings, so that Caroline wouldn't notice the substitution,while hiding his left hand without his ring.</p><p> - <strong>That's odd. I've never heard of such a sign,</strong> - Caroline frowned slightly, thinking.</p><p>- <strong>Yup, but…You know, I'm just really excited about the event. After all, being best man at the best friend's wedding is a big responsibility. I'm just afraid of messing up, I'm not the perfect representative for this role. I'm sorry, Carol,</strong> - Roland tried to distract his wife's attention from the box with an apology, while mentally berating himself for being a lousy best man, because he had managed to lose the bride's ring on the first evening.</p><p>- <strong>Yes, Ro, I understand. You really think too much about it. But don't worry, everything will go well, I'm sure,</strong> - Caroline patted her husband's head patronizingly, to which he responded with a kind smile.</p><p>It was good to have her in his life – his ray of light. Kind, loyal, understanding and reliable Caroline, who always supported him in difficult moments. A nasty pang of guilt pricked Roland's heart. Does he have the right to cheat on her? No, he can't. But is there anything he can do about it? No. So is it worth it to worry so much about it? Definitely not worth it, but how to do it. He kept telling Curt the same thing, that he shouldn't be so worried about their relationship, but to be honest, he was just as crazy. Moreover, Roland felt like a real scumbag, a moral freak. This bright woman does not deserve to be betrayed. But he can't live without Curt, either. So the only thing he can do now is to make sure that Caroline doesn't find out anything about him and Curt. Damn life. Why is everything so complicated?</p><p>As soon as Roland was sure that Caroline was definitely in the kitchen by the appropriate sounds, he quickly put his ring back on his finger and began to search for the lost one. Here it is, thank God! It rolled under the nightstand, and fortunately it didn't take long to find it. Roland carefully placed the ring in its rightful place, vowing not to make such mistakes again. He couldn't let Curt down on such a big day.</p><p>***    ***   ***   ***   ***</p><p>- <strong>So where are we going?</strong> - Curt asked the guys, looking around the streets of a dubious area of London.</p><p>- <strong>To a club, for an interview, you know,</strong> - Roland said, looking for the right sign. – <strong>Here it is, the club, we are here!</strong></p><p>- <strong>The "Secrets of Medusa",</strong> - Manny whistled approvingly.</p><p>- <strong>Either Chris is completely out of his mind, or I don't even know what to think,</strong> - Curt said, frowning at the raunchy rainbow - colored sign with the silhouette of a girl on a pole. - <strong>This is a strip club, Ro! Why are you so calm? And where is Chris?</strong></p><p>- <strong>Chris has nothing to do with it, it's our new manager's idea</strong>,- Roland said, coming up with all sorts of nonsense. Fortunately, now he had experience in this.</p><p>-<strong> What's new manager? I know I may have missed something with the wedding preparations, but I feel like I've come out of a deep cave that I've been living in for ages.</strong></p><p>- <strong>Stop talking like that, Curt, I don't recognize you! Come on, let's see the big-boobed chicks, will mix business with pleasure</strong>, - Manny slapped his friend on the shoulder and boldly went in the direction of the club. Curt shook his head doubtfully, but followed the mates anyway.</p><p>The big bouncer eyed them suspiciously from head to toe, but let them pass after looking at the cards of membership that Roland had handed out to them earlier.</p><p>- <strong>What is this coveted pass to paradise?</strong> -  Ian asked.</p><p>- <strong>Chris helped organize it. Of course, not for free. This is an elite club, you can't just get in here,</strong> - Roland replied in a low voice so that Curt wouldn't hear.</p><p> - <strong>So he's a regular at these places? I didn't know,</strong> - Ian chuckled. – <strong>Why elite? Here girls are chosen as best horses for racing?</strong></p><p>- <strong>Er...well, sort of, yes,</strong> - Roland muttered.</p><p>- <strong>What are you talking about, where is Chris, where is everybody, what the hell is going on here?</strong> - Curt stopped in front of the guys, demanding an explanation.</p><p>- <strong>In short… - </strong>Roland looked at the guys for support. – <strong>There will be no interview.</strong></p><p>- <strong>What?</strong> - Curt spread his hands.</p><p>- <strong>Because ... well. We're having a fucking BACHELOR party tonight, buddy!!!</strong> - Roland yelled at the entire club, followed by cheers from everywhere, and Ian and Manny dragged a confused but wide-smiling Curt to the center of the dance floor, where they were immediately surrounded by curvy, cheeky girls in only lace bodysuits and stockings.</p><p> </p><p>- <strong>Ro, thank you, I wasn't expecting it, really. How much did it all cost you?</strong> - Curt looked gratefully at Roland, who came over with two glasses of booze.</p><p>-<strong> It doesn't matter. Don't think about it,</strong> - Roland remembered that he could have emptied almost all of his rainy-day funds to organize this celebration, but fortunately, Ian had helped him out a lot by investing his own money in the event and borrowing Roland's share of the contribution until better times.</p><p>- <strong>I must somehow justify the honorary title of best man. I must do it. A wedding without a nice drink the day before is a bad omen! By the way, this is not all the surprises for today,</strong> - Roland looked at his friend conspiratorially.</p><p>-<strong> Wow!</strong> - Curt looked at his boyfriend with undisguised interest. - <strong>You're very intriguing. Dang, Manny, be careful!</strong> - Curt kept Manny from falling as he tried to climb up to the stripper on stage. – <strong>How much have you drink, weirdo?</strong></p><p>- <strong>I'm fine dudes, I just want to dance with her!</strong> - Manny was bouncing on the spot, either dancing, or simply from an overabundance of emotions, or from something else.</p><p>- <strong>On a pole? I'd like to see that,</strong> - Roland laughed, then asked a more serious question. – <strong>Manny, you're not just drunk, are you? We don't want any trouble, buddy, keep it together.</strong></p><p>- <strong>Just one pill, but the effect is fire! I'm just as happy as I've ever been, guys!</strong> - the ecstasy the guy took had a very predictable effect.</p><p>- <strong>Anyway, I hope Ian will keep an eye on you,</strong> - Roland nodded to Ian, pointing to his colleague who was flying to rainbow nirvana. - <strong>We need to go away for a while. Surprise for the groom. Private,</strong> - Roland pointed at the half-naked girls, thereby explaining his intentions to Ian, who raised one eyebrow in disbelief. Ian's face broke into an approving smile, and he winked at Roland and signaled that Manny would be fine.</p><p>***   ***   ***   ***   ***</p><p>Swimming through the twinkling club lights that made his head spin, Roland led Curt through the ever-moving crowd of people to a hidden room. The young man motioned for his friend to enter. Curt pushed aside the glittering beaded thread curtains with his hands, finding himself in a room whose interior was almost entirely made in red tones, complemented by black decor elements in the form of pillows on the sofas and candles on the shelves that gave off a sugary vanilla aroma. Unbearably vulgar decorated, barely lit by a faded intimate light, coupled with slow erotic music, the room spontaneously caused dirty thoughts in the minds of visitors. In the midst of all this obscurantism, a strip pole was solemnly placed, waiting for the dexterous dancer.</p><p>Roland, enjoying a strong cocktail, sat down on the sofa, inviting Curt to sit across from him. At the same moment, a young, dark-haired girl with predatory features, looking somewhat like a panther, appeared in the room. Gracefully moving in a slow invitingly sexy dance in front of the guys, she deftly flew up on the pole, spinning like a snake in incredibly complex and spectacular movements. Eliciting enthusiastic compliments from the guys, the girl decided that it was enough to amaze their imagination, getting right down to why she was invited here. The girl slowly approached Curt, and, sexually wriggling in front of him, continued her dance personally for the guy. Curt watched unblinkingly as the stripper slowly removed her glittering bra,moving her perfectly rounded hips with their tiny panties right in front of his face, while Roland watched the sensuous face of his boyfriend. He was thrilled beyond words by the languid look in Curt's half-closed eyes, which seemed completely black in the semi-darkness. The girl touched her thumb to the young man's swollen lips, ran her tongue over the surface of his neck, which caused a surge of sweet trembling in the guy's body, then sat on Curt's thighs and began to rhythmically rub her pussy against his heaving bulge under his trousers.</p><p>- <strong>Holy shit, Ro, what the hell is this?…Ohhhh,</strong>  - Curt could only gasp as the girl reached down, unbuttoned his pants, deftly pulled on a condom, and began to suck his hard cock with professional skill.</p><p>Roland felt like he was in some fucking heaven. He'd expected a stripper-and-elite whore sucking Curt off in front of him to be a great sight, but he hadn't thought it would be that great. His mind was on the edge of the real world and a rainbow wonderland, where hundreds of fireworks exploded every now and then, as he watched Curt's beautiful face contorted with a voluptuous grimace in the moment of a delicious and vivid orgasm. The young man's sweet moan reached Roland's eardrums, raced through his entire being, penetrated to the most secret points of his brain and body, continuing to echo at the level of his instincts. Curt's hoarse voice snapped him out of his half trance:</p><p>- <strong>Suck him off, too,</strong> - the young man took out a few bills from his wallet, thrusting them to the girl behind the thin elastic band of her panties. The stripper, wagging her hips, without further ado, approached Roland to fulfill the desire of that cute lad.</p><p>Now it was Curt's turn to admire the surprisingly hot expression on his boyfriend's face as he made full eye contact with him. Curt's only desire at this moment was to go to Roland and bite into those damned inviting, red-rimmed lips, but he had to restrain himself. Curt let out a sharp, noisy breath and licked his own lips, seeing that Roland was about to reach the climax. He felt his cock hard again at the sight of Roland coming with a loud moan, his fingers gripping the back of the leather sofa. </p><p>Curt approached the noisy breathing guy and greedily kissed him on the lips, thrusting his tongue literally down his throat, as soon as he was sure that the priestess of love had left the nest of debauchery. Roland returned the kiss no less passionately, wrapping his arm around his neck, biting into his lover's lips until it hurt.</p><p>- <strong>Roland ... thank you. It was something...unexpecting and incredible,</strong> - Curt looked at Roland with happy eyes, tenderly and lightly touching his hair with his fingers. – <strong>Does this mean that the good boy has completely lost his way?</strong></p><p>- <strong>Not quite yet,</strong> - Roland said, looking at his friend intently and meaningfully, making the hair on his body stand on end. Curt was aware of the depth of the hint.</p><p> - <strong>Okay. I understood,</strong> - Curt pressed his burning forehead against Roland's cheek, trying hard to stop the trembling from the thoughts that filled his head, ringing and gleaming like sparklers. - <strong>Shall we go to the others?</strong> - Roland nodded in agreement, and the guys set off in search of the other half of their party.</p><p>After that, because of Manny's taste for the party, they had to go on a trip to all the pubs and bars that appeared on their way. In especially liked guys stayed longer, getting drunk on alcohol and having fun to the fullest. At the last bar, when the guys realized that they were completely exhausted, and it seemed that they had enough for today, they had to win a drunk Manny from a security guard, because he decided to shove five pounds in his underpants, because he thought that the big guy had beautiful eyes. Ian grabbed the struggling Manny who was sure to kiss the guard and dragged him to the exit, at the same time apologizing to the angry bouncer, using all the eloquence possible in his drunken state.</p><p>Finally, the guys went outside. Curt noisily inhaled the fresh, slightly frosty air and put his hot face under the lazily falling soft and fluffy snow.</p><p>- <strong>Oh, my God, life is good!</strong> - he said happily.</p><p>- <strong>Especially for Manny,</strong> - Ian staggered, pointing at the swaying guy, who, leaning against a lamppost, barely able to keep his balance, and was busily trying to draw patterns on the newly fallen snow with the contents of his bladder.</p><p>The guys laughed at what Manny was doing, but after a moment they had to catch themselves and pick up the poor drunk who had fallen.</p><p>- <strong>Well, we'll have to get a cab to the hotel,</strong> - Roland said reasonably, -<strong> if we can</strong>.</p><p>- <strong>And if it doesn't?</strong></p><p>- <strong>I don't know...the underground?</strong></p><p>- <strong>At 3 o'clock in the morning? Yes, fuck, you're just a genius!</strong></p><p>- <strong>For starters, how much money does anyone have?</strong></p><p>- <strong>Oh, damn, I only have change…</strong></p><p>- <strong>And me too…</strong></p><p>- <strong>What, we even haven't 15 pounds?</strong></p><p>-<strong> Nope.… Spent everything…</strong></p><p>- <strong>Ohhh, un-fucking-believable.</strong></p><p>- <strong>So, how are we going to leave tomorrow?</strong></p><p>- <strong>We'll call Chris. He'll help out.</strong></p><p>- <strong>He will snap our heads like chicken, and we're going to lose the producer for sure because of our antics.</strong></p><p>- <strong>Roland, it was actually your idea!</strong></p><p>- <strong>Yes, but everyone was having fun, and no one complained as we drifted from bar to bar. No need to whine now. Let's think!</strong></p><p>- <strong>Stop bickering,</strong> - Curt finally said. - <strong>First of all, Ro, remind me what hotel we're staying at and where it was, because I can't think straight.</strong></p><p>- "<strong>Bell Hotel", I think...yes, that's right,</strong> - Roland said, looking at his notebook. - <strong>In the Cavendish Road area.</strong></p><p>- <strong>Which way is that?</strong></p><p> - <strong>It's there, -</strong> Roland gestured to the right.</p><p>- <strong>Really? And why not there?</strong> - Curt pointed in the opposite direction. Roland shrugged in response.</p><p>- <strong>Where are we anyway?</strong></p><p>- <strong>Who the fuck knows…</strong></p><p>- <strong>Oh, my God... Everything was too perfect, I thought so something was going to go wrong,</strong> - Curt sighed. –  <strong>I hope we don't get beaten up because of this jerk,</strong> - Curt, looking around at the suspicious silhouettes in the distance, was trying to reason with Manny, who was drunkenly shouting lines of "Mad World".</p><p>The young men began to look around, hoping to find at least one sign indicating their location. But they saw nothing but the hideous, shabby signs. Finally, when the guys were completely desperate to find anything and were about to ask for directions from a suspicious company, they saw an address on the shabby stone wall of one of the old houses.</p><p>- <strong>Manny had a map – he got the guidebook from the train station!</strong> - Ian remembered. - <strong>I hope he didn't lose it.</strong></p><p>Luckily for the guys, Ian pulled a well-worn booklet from the inside pocket of the drummer's jacket, and the mates began to study the route.</p><p>- <strong>Well, that's it, really figured out. Let's go, I'm extremely cold already.</strong></p><p>- <strong>What about this one?</strong> - Roland pointed to Manny, who was throwing up in the trash can.</p><p>- <strong>And let's leave him here, fuck him!</strong></p><p>- <strong>That's right, no extra cargo!</strong></p><p>- <strong>Okay, okay, we were just kidding,</strong> - Curt laughed, hearing a faint indignant grunt. – <strong>We'll take turns dragging you, drunkard. Be glad you're a good drummer.</strong></p><p> </p><p>***   ***   ***   ***   ***</p><p> </p><p>Finally relaxed after an intense evening, Curt stood in front of the hotel room mirror, running his hands through his tangled, damp hair after a shower. There was a peaceful smile on his face, despite the fact that the guy was still nervous – one of these things the lovers wanted so much - had happened. They were completely alone in the room, they did not need to hurry anywhere, to be afraid of something, looking around in anxiety. The guys were free to do what they wanted. It was just a matter of figuring out how to do it.</p><p>In the reflection of the mirror, Curt kept glancing at his boyfriend, who was lying on the bed, or rather, on the two beds that he had managed to push together while Curt was washing. He could see Roland, wrapped up in a fluffy, huge white robe with his head, nervously taking sip after sip of red wine from a glass from time to time. Curt stood in front of the mirror for a while, trying to figure out what to say in such cases, but the thoughts like unruly free birds flew out of his head, leaving no chance to imprison them in a cage. The force of the incredible excitement caught his throat in a spasm, preventing him from uttering a sound. Curt had imagined this night a thousand times – in his imagination everything was natural, simple and clear. But why were his knees shaking and his palms sweating, as if this was the first time in his life? Although, in a sense, it was true, but this was his Roland. The same familiar, cozy and his own person. A man in whose head he knew every thought, and on whose body he knew the exact location of every birthmark. . Curt raised his eyes suddenly met eyes with an anxious look of Roland in the mirror. He watched as the lad quickly emptied the nearly full glass, setting it on the bedside table, and lay back, his arms spread wide on the pillows, his eyes devouring Curt’s half-naked body, on which was nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. Curt instantly interpreted this as a nonverbal invitation.  Reaching the makeshift bed for two in no time, Curt took a sip of wine straight from the throat of Roland's bottle for extra courage, squinting at the white plush cloud on the bed with the object of his desire in the center. The "cloud" finally moved closer to the edge of the bed, baring itself to the normal human condition.</p><p>Roland, kneeling on the bed, gently stroked the young man's torso with warm hands. Roland's head was a little dizzy from the alcohol he'd drunk and the faint scent of his favorite Curt's cologne, when he covered the guy's body with gentle, unhurried kisses. One movement of Roland's hand, which seemed awkward at first glance, but at the same time obviously deliberate, and the towel, which did not hide the tension in the lower abdomen of Curt, slid to his feet. Roland ran his fingers down his lover's flat stomach, tickling the strip of hair from his navel and down, then cupped the hard shaft of his aroused cock. Sitting comfortably in front of his boyfriend, Roland took the penis in his mouth, deftly running his tongue over its surface and making several circles around the swollen head with the tip of his tongue. Curt groaned at the sweetness of the sensations that Roland gave him, starting to move by inertia, slowly fucking the young man in the mouth. That whore was good at blowjobs, but even her professionalism couldn't compare to what his lover's wonderful mouth was doing. Roland, closing his eyes with pleasure, carefully sucked Curt's cock, trying not to miss a single inch, periodically picking up the testicles with his mouth, from which Curt's legs literally gave way. With a hoarse groan, he stopped Roland, explaining that he needed a break or he would come right now, looking at Roland's obscenely red lips around his dick. Throwing the guy on his back, after throwing his stupid robe away, Curt leaned on top of him, greedily embracing Roland's deliciously built body and passionately kissing him on the lips. Their tense dicks touched each other, adding new sensations to the guys who were ready to dissolve into each other in the midst of a stormy ocean of bliss.</p><p>Curt stood up a little on his hands, hovering over Roland to visually capture the mind-blowing effect of the proximity of their erections. This did not seem enough to him, so the guy decided to strengthen the contact from the touch, wrapping both cocks at once with the palm of his hand, lightly stroking them together. Roland arched in pleasure, letting out a moan so sweet that Curt's brain almost exploded at what was happening between the two of them. Leaving the dicks alone, so as not to go crazy at the very beginning from poorly controlled excitation, he continued to kiss Roland's hot-breathing mouth, not ignoring his face and especially his neck, hardly caring that Roland would then have to wear a scarf for a week. Roland responded enthusiastically to his lover, digging his nails into his back and pressing his thighs as hard as possible, enjoying every moment of new intimacy between them.</p><p>After several deep kisses, Curt kissed Roland on the lips and gradually began to move his lips and tongue down his body, covering his stomach and inner thighs with wet kisses, finally reaching the penis. Immediately taking a deep hold of the hard cock with his mouth and actively moving his lips over it, Curt drove Roland into a state of frenzy, forcing the guy to let out a half-moan, half-cry, which turned into a whisper that he was going to explode the fuck if Curt didn't stop. Then the young man, pressing Roland's penis to his stomach and taking each testicle in turn in his mouth, lowered his tongue a little lower, caressing the tender skin under the balls, which caused Roland another storm of emotions in the form of unintelligible, but happy obscenities. Roland's hips twitched a little as Curt's finger gently penetrated the thickly smeared saliva hole, carefully preparing it for further action. As soon as Curt felt the tension around his fingers ease, he looked into Roland's eyes, waiting for his reaction, followed by a loud exhalation and a nod of agreement from his lover.  Roland was about to roll over on his stomach, but Curt stopped him, explaining that he would be more comfortable and calmer if he could see all the emotions on Roland's face, because Curt was terribly afraid of harming his partner. The young man struggled to gather together the remnants of his sanity, which was eager to gallop off into the distance at a wild scamper, so that his lover would at least be more or less comfortable. Smearing the tip of his penis with a lubricant that, as it turned out in the deepest embarrassment, both prudent guys had with them just in case, Curt carefully began to penetrate Roland, lifting his legs up and completely confused, not knowing what to do next, because as soon as Curt slightly increased the depth of movements, Roland closed his eyes and hissed like a snake, bending in the lower back and holding Curt's torso with his hands.</p><p>- <strong>Ro ... should I ... should I stop?</strong> – Curt's voice sounded very worried.</p><p>- <strong>God,</strong> - Roland was barely able to breathe out, -<strong> no, not this, please.. I can't stand another invasion like this.</strong></p><p>- <strong>Does it hurt that much?</strong></p><p>-<strong> Well,</strong> - Roland found the strength to smile, - <strong>I somewhat underestimated your size and overestimated my capabilities.</strong></p><p>- <strong>Damn you, Orzabal! Normally, I'd take it as a compliment, but with you, as always, everything is going through the ass!</strong></p><p>- <strong>Literally,</strong> - the young man laughed, unwittingly relaxing with laughter, allowing Curt to penetrate a little deeper, finally easing the sensation.</p><p>- <strong>Don't be offended, please, it's all right, really…It's just...I need to get used to it...</strong> - Roland stroked Curt's stomach and hips with his fingers, trying to focus on the radically new sensations that his lover was giving him with all his care.</p><p>Meanwhile, as Curt moved slowly, he noticed that Roland's breathing was getting faster and faster, and his erection was back in great shape after some stress. The youth's chest was flushed, and a delicate blush appeared on his cheeks. Curt admired Roland's fluttering lashes, kissing his half-open mouth, glad that Roland seemed to be feeling more than fine. Curt decided to offer his lover to roll over on his stomach, putting a pillow under his hips. As he slowly entered him again to Roland's growling "Aaahhh", Curt was surprised that Roland had made it easier for him by impaling his ass on his cock on his own, thus giving Curt real scope for action. The young man accelerated his movements, furious that Roland no longer resisted him, but actively participated in the process, hiding his moans among the sheets and blankets. Curt slid his hand under Roland's belly to feel Roland's throbbing penis. Roland, in turn, could no longer contain his emotions – his body was literally filled with a red-hot mass, and the pressure in the lower abdomen became more and more unbearable from the fierce stimulation of his lover's dick and hand. With an animal cry, Roland poured the viscous liquid into Curt's palm, twisting and twitching under his body. At that moment, Curt realized that this was the peak of his control over himself, and then, placing his hands on top of Roland's palms and intertwining his fingers with his, he began to mercilessly hammer his dick into the guy's ass, literally biting his lips and teeth into Roland's shoulder. Roland's bright, but sometimes somewhat stifled, moans and wheezes echoed in his head over the roar of the raging blood in his vessels, his heart fluttering in his chest like a giant butterfly entangled in a grid, as he came inside Roland with a growl, shuddering all over.</p><p>- <strong>Oh, my God, Jesus fucking Christ, Roland,</strong> - Curt could only whisper, catching his breath. - <strong>I almost died from all this, but if I did, it would be the best memory in the next world!</strong></p><p>- <strong>You idiot!</strong> - Roland laughed. - <strong>However, I understand you.</strong></p><p>- <strong>How are you, my love?</strong> -  Curt asked Roland worriedly. - <strong>Your body suffered a little bit today because of me,</strong> - still breathing fast, the young man said guiltily, gently kissing Roland's shoulders, which were covered with maroon spots from too passionate kisses.</p><p>- <strong>Don't worry, I'm fine. Really,</strong> -  Roland let out a soft, hissing breath as he felt his body noticeably empty. - <strong>Damn, I ruined the pillow,</strong> - Roland grinned, removing the pillow with traces of his semen, and decided to hurry after Curt to the shower to take him together.</p><p>- <strong>To hell with the pillow,</strong> - the guy smiled, gently moving his hands and drawing swirls of soap on the passionately desired and beloved body of Roland. - <strong>Oh, my God…How I love you, Ro....</strong></p><p>- <strong>And I love you, too,</strong> - Roland sighed a little. - <strong>And God only knows how I don't want to live like this… You understand…In constant tension and in the forced obligation to keep a secret. Although we don't really owe anyone anything.</strong></p><p>- <strong>You're right, Ro... But...</strong></p><p>- <strong>Damn "But" ... Well, let's not think about it now, to hell with it,</strong> - Roland, barely wiping the moisture from his body with a towel, jumped into bed, dragging Curt with him, settling comfortably on his chest.</p><p>- <strong>Curt?</strong></p><p>- <strong>Huh?</strong></p><p>- <strong>Today was truly the happiest and most important day of my life,</strong> - he whispered. – <strong>I didn't even think it was real to be so happy. I'm even ... a little scared.</strong></p><p>- <strong>Why are you scared?</strong></p><p>- <strong>It often happens that the universe can not stand that people are insanely happy and all sorts of rubbish happens. I don't want that. I just want to be happy with you.</strong></p><p>- <strong>Roland, your pessimism is boundless even now,</strong> - Curt grinned, gently stroking the lover's hair, remembering that he had once had similar thoughts. – <strong>It will be all right, my love, don't think bad things. You know that bad thoughts tend to materialize,</strong> - Curt yawned widely. They were very tired this evening, and tomorrow they still had to think about how to get out of here.</p><p>- <strong>And by the way, thank you again, Ro, for this day. There are not enough words to describe my happiness and gratitude to you,</strong> - Curt kissed Roland on the forehead, pulling him closer to him. –<strong> Don't think about anything and just know that YOU are the most important person in my life. And no one else.</strong></p>
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